Blinded by the Light
by NCCJFAN
Summary: Nothing like another woman entering the picture to cause chaos...and Devan does...Fortunately, it doesn't last. Unfortunately, for Woody, it takes a major overhaul in his life to make him see the light.
1. It's Over in a Kiss

**Disclaimer: Okay, I admit it. I hate Devan. And I want Jordan and Woody to be together. Soon. And I don't own anything to do with Crossing Jordan....although I wish I did. Because if I did, they'd already be together. And Devan would have been long gone. And Jordan's hair would still be wavy. And Woody would get a decent hair cut. And Bug and Lily would be together. And Nigel Townsend would be mine. And as for Garrett...well, look for him in my next story. **

**Chapter One**

First it started with them flirting...giggling together...over coffee...over cases...then finally over drinks in the evening. Neither one thought it would go any further than a friendship. Until one night, he walked her out to her car after a long night together in autopsy. They were deeply involved in the case. He had opened her car door for her. She had turned to look up at him. She was a petite woman. Her head barely hit the top of his shoulder. She looked like she needed protecting, but looks could be deceiving. She was more than capable of handling herself. But again, looks were deceiving.

She had looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly, and all Woody knew was that he wanted to kiss her...more than anything. So without any hesitation, without a second thought, he had held her blue-eyed gaze for a half a second longer, then crashed his lips down on hers.

And felt her respond...her arms went around her neck and her mouth opened for him. He held her there for a long moment, before breaking away and murmuring good-night and shutting the car door. He watched her drive out of the garage and down the street. He meant to make his way back up to his office and finish some paperwork.

But when he turned around, he found himself staring into a pair of whiskey-colored eyes. Eyes that were fighting back anger...hurt....trying to remain neutral.

"Evening, Woody," was all she would say as she brushed passed him to go into her office to start her double shift.

"Jordan, wait...." He had called out. But to no avail. She entered the stairwell, slammed the door shut and ran up the six flights of stairs to her office.

It was over...the three and a half years he had fought to gain her affections, her love, was over...gone in less than a minute. Gone in a kiss that never should have happened to begin with...

* * *

Jordan fought back her tears as she entered her office, but was unsuccessful. Trying her best to stifle back the sobs that were threatening to shake her entire being to the core, she shut the door and leaned against it. How did this happen? And why did she let it? Blindly she made her way to her couch and huddled in the corner. Woody was hers, wasn't he? Hadn't he said as much? What had gone wrong?

"Jor, I need you in autopsy one...hey, are you okay?" Nigel asked from the doorway, after he had knocked for a second and then entered without her permission.

Numbly, Jordan nodded. "Yeah...just a bad evening. Give me a minute, will you?"

Nigel nodded and backed out of the door. A few minutes later Jordan joined him in the autopsy room, as if nothing had happened. He looked at her quizzically, but her face gave no indication of anything at all. He chalked it up to her monthly and went back to work.

It wasn't until a day or two afterwards that he began to put two and two together. And came up with five. He had stopped in at the Pogue one evening to see Jordan and perhaps talk to her and Woody about a case they were working on together. Sometimes after a couple of beers, your thoughts begin to loosen and you can actually see more clearly. Especially if there's a couple of other people on the case around who have also had a couple of beers. He entered the bar, expecting to see Jordan behind it and Woody on his usual seat. Jordan was there, but no Woody.

"Jordan, love, a pint, please?" he asked.

She filled his mug with the darkest ale she had and set it in front of him. "How's it going, Nige?"

"Good, actually. Say, I was wanting to pick your's and Woody's brain about this Murris case? Is Woodrow around?"

Jordan had turned her back to him quickly and said rather sharply, "No. He's not."

"Is he coming in?"

"I have no idea, Nigel. He doesn't tell me much of anything anymore." She had turned back around to wipe down the area where two people had left. If Nigel didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes.

"Oh," had been his only reply. He watched her while he finished his beer. Somehow, tonight wasn't the best time to talk about the Murris case. His friend was in pain. And it had something to do with Woody. Why she didn't give into her feelings and just go to bed with the boy, he had no clue. It would relieve a lot of sexual tension...and honestly be a relief to everyone. But it was Jordan. And she never did things the easy way. "Say, love, what about a game of pool after you close?"

Jordan nodded. "Sure...can you wait that long?"

"For you, I'll wait all night."

A couple of hours later, she was racking the balls up and he was chalking up his cue. They made small talk until about half way through the game. Finally, getting up his courage, he asked, "What gives with you and Woodrow?"

"Nothing."

"Jordan...I know better. You've fought."

"No. Honestly. We haven't."

"Jordan..."

"No. Nigel. We haven't. We've both just moved on. We've decided we're not right for each other."

He absorbed this piece of information. "So you're not even friends now?"

"I guess...maybe....I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

"Can you two work together?"

"Sure. But I'd prefer not to." And that was all she wanted to say about Woody. Nigel had never known her to be so cryptic about anything, but he pushed his point a bit further.

"Do you know where he's at?"

"I have no clue. But I've heard great things about that new pub that opened down the street from the police department."

Nigel took the hint. The next night he persuaded Bug to go with him to the new pub. "Please Bug," he had begged, "It's important."

"What's so important about a new pub? There's a new pub opening in Boston everyday. And besides, I thought you were loyal to the Pogue."

"I am. But this has to do with Jordan. Please. Just come with me. This one time, Buggles."

Bug finally agreed. Around nine that night Bug and Nigel entered the new pub, O'Malleys. And Nigel saw what Jordan was talking about. There on barstools, sitting side by side, too close and nearly locked at the lip were Devan and Woody.

"So this was what Jordan was bloody nearly crying over," Nigel said under his breath to Bug.

"Sweet Mary in the manger, does he know what the hell he is doing?" Bug asked.

"I don't know, but I do know if I don't get out of here, I will hurt him," said Nigel. Both men walked out of the pub, hands thrust deeply in their pockets.

"The bad thing is that I really liked Woody. He seemed like a decent guy," said Bug.

"Yeah," was all Nigel would reply.

"I mean...in one way you can hardly blame him. He's waited around on Jordan forever. And Devan is hot...you gotta admit that."

"Yeah."

"Is that all you can say?"

"No...but if I start now, I may go back in there and say a few things to a few people I may regret. See you tomorrow Bug." Nigel got on his motorcycle and rode home, his head too full of thoughts. Jordan. Woody. And damned Devan. Pushy broad. He sighed. In a way, Bug was right. Jordan had made Woody wait a long time....but Jordan had been dealing with more than her fair share of demons. And she was just beginning to turn around when Woody goes and does this...Of course he wasn't all to blame. Devan had been in the morgue long enough to know that Woody's affection for Jordan went back several years. She could have said no. She should have said no.

Arriving at his flat, he took off his helmet and went inside. Stretching out his lanky form on the bed, he knew. He knew why Jordan had nearly been in tears the other day. He knew now why she reacted so sharply to Woody's name. He knew why she had been avoiding Woody's homicide calls and been working the night shift to avoid Devan.

His girl was hurt...to the quick...Once again, Jordan was bruised and battered. And once again, it was partly her fault. He sighed again. When was she ever going to learn?


	2. Doing Doubles

**Chapter Two**

Work. It now consumed her. The more she worked, the less she had to think. The less she wanted to think. And the less she thought, the less she hurt. And the less she hurt, the less she had to deal with Woody.

So Jordan worked. Doubles. Rotation. Overtime. Nights. Weekends. Garrett had never seen her more dedicated...or consumed. But with the fact that the morgue was now short-staffed with Peter's departure, coupled with a seeming rise in Boston's body count, he was thankful for her efforts...and not inclined to ask questions about it right now.

It did seem odd to him that she was almost refusing to go out on Woody's call-ins. But Nigel had always stepped up to go. Or Devan. And that was fine with him. If Jordan wanted to bury herself inside the morgue with work, he was more than happy to send someone else on pickups.

Nigel watched her carefully now. But she was staying so busy, they rarely had a chance to talk. He finally cornered her one day in her office. "Love?" he had asked.

"Yeah, Nige?" She was sitting at her desk, her head in her hands, her dark brown hair nearly tumbling out of the messy bun she had it pulled back in.

"Love, do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly, coming into her office and shutting her door.

"Talk about what?"

Nigel sighed deeply. "You know what, Jordan. I went to O'Malley's. I saw what you wanted me to see."

Jordan hung her head lower. "Yeah."

"All I can say is that he must be crazy, Jordan. Completely crazy."

She lifted her head from her hands and gave Nigel a weak smile. "Thanks...I think."

"Why Devan? Why now?"

"It's simple, really, Nigel."

"Then tell me."

"I made him wait too long. By the time I had set all my past behind me...accepted my mother's death....settled my differences with my father...made peace with my history, it was too late. He found someone else that wouldn't flinch away when he mentioned the word 'relationship' and didn't turn green when he told people they were 'dating'. Devan's that person."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it? There's nothing I can do about it. He's made his choice. I've got to live with it. It's another piece of my life I'll have to get used to." She pushed away from her desk and walked over to her window. Nigel's eyes followed her. When Jordan began to pace when she thought, she was in deep concentration over something. So Nigel sat silent, waiting for her to verbally exorcise the demons that were presently torturing her soul.

"I'll just have to get used to it, Nige. Give me a few weeks. Then I'll be able to go back out on his pick ups...I'll be able to work with Devan. I'll be able to accept the fact that Woody lied to me." That was the hardest part for her. He had promised he would always be there for her...the one stable place in her life was now ripped out from under her, leaving her feet on very shaky ground.

"You won't fight for him?"

"You mean take Devan outside and dust her off a bit?"

Nigel laughed. While the idea of a catfight between the two women had its appeal..... "No, confront Woody with your feelings."

"No. He's made his decision, Nige. He's moved on. It's time for me to do the same thing."

Nigel rose from his seat and walked over to Jordan. "Hey, sweetheart, I think you may need to tell him the way you feel. At least to get it off your chest, if nothing else. Know you did all you could."

Jordan shook her head. "No. If Woody's happy with Devan, it won't make a bit of difference. And it may cause more tension around here. And that's not good. Garrett's getting ready to rip me apart now because I won't take Woody's calls."

"Hmmm. Maybe so. But if you need to talk....if I can do anything...."

"I know, Nige. I'll be fine. Honestly."

* * *

Determined to put Woody behind her, Jordan continued to work more hours at the morgue, often sleeping overnight on her couch because she was simply too tired to drive even the short distance back to her apartment. She'd curl up on her couch, pull her throw over her, pillow her head on whatever was handy, and sleep a few hours until she felt like going home, showering, and doing it all again the next day. Garrett had joked he was going to list the morgue as her second residence if she didn't start going home at five o'clock like normal people.

"Since when have I ever been normal?" she had asked.

He had grinned back at her, but said rather firmly, "You need your rest, Jordan. I seriously doubt you're getting it this way."

"Give me a few more weeks, Garrett, just a few more. Then I promise I'll be back to normal." Nigel had filled Garrett in on what had happened. And while Garrett didn't like personal problems to interfere with morgue work, he was cutting Jordan some slack...especially since she was picking up Peter's load.

"Okay...but only until the new ME gets here. Then it's back to normal for you...including taking Woody's call-ins if they fall on your watch."

Jordan nodded. She had avoided him for a good three weeks now. She was getting better. Give her a couple of more weeks and she should be completely cured.

Until she looked back into those blue eyes.

And that happened all too soon for her. She had worked one more round of doubles. After finishing a victim in trace, she had mumbled a sleepy "good night" to Nigel and went back into her office. She shut the door and lay down on the couch and was soon fast asleep. She didn't hear her door open.

"Hey, Jo...Jo...wake up," he had said, gently shaking her.

She had mumbled something in her sleep and turned over on her stomach.

"No, Jo. Wake up...just for a minute. Nigel said you were doing doubles. I need to find out about that victim in trace."

She rolled back over and sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "What about him, Woody?"

"Did his fingernails have any scrapings?"

"Ummm...yeah."

"Do we know anything about them, yet?"

"Sure." She pushed herself up off the couch and away from him. It was vital she get away from him. She could feel the heat roll off his body....it reminded her too much of how it felt to be in his arms. She fumbled with the files on her desk. "Yeah... here it is." She handed him the file and turned to sit back down in her desk chair.

"Are you okay, Jo?" She looked awful...dark circles under her eyes...

"Who? Me? Yeah...just tired. I'm covering for Peter until we can hire a new ME."

"Oh...well -- get some rest, okay?"

"Hmmm? Yeah, sure. Whatever."

He left...She looked awful. It's true she was working a lot of doubles...too many. He had heard this through the office grapevine and Devan. Determined to find out more, he stopped by Nigel's office to get some questions answered.


	3. A Walk in the Park

**Chapter Three**

"Hey Nige, got a minute?" Woody asked.

"Woodrow....wasn't Jordan able to help you with those DNA scrapings?"

"Yeah...she answered my questions and gave me the file...what's up with her?"

Nigel shot the detective an angry look. "What do you think?"

Woody looked down at the floor a minute, carefully studying the patterns in the tile. "Me?" he finally got out with a sigh.

"I'd say bloody say so...and Devan. Why in the hell are you doing this to her, Woody? If you were ready to move on in your life, if you were tired of waiting on Jordan, why didn't you talk to her? And why in the hell did you decide you were going to move on with Devan...of all people? A co-worker of hers? Someone she has to see everyday....Did you not think how this would affect Jordan? Do you not think the girl has any feelings?"

"Nigel, I'm sorry...I've just waited a long time for Jordan...years. She would never ... I mean, I just got tired of waiting."

"Don't you think the lady had some issues she had to deal with first?"

"I know....but now they're behind her and she still didn't..."

"I happen to know she was just about to talk to you...to tell you she was ready to move on with your relationship...how grateful she was that you had been so patient with her... loving. How much she appreciated your always being there for her. And then she sees you kiss Devan in the parking deck. Are you completely daft?"

"It just happened...it didn't mean anything.."

"And all these nights you've spent with her at O'Malleys mean nothing either?"

Woody paled. He had no idea how Nigel knew about the time he had spent with Devan there. "She was someone to talk to, Nigel. She was there for me."

Nigel let out a huff. "I know Jordan hasn't been the easiest person to live with, Woody. She's had far too many of her own demons to deal with...far too many for one person. But I happen to know she loves you very much and she was looking forward to spending time with you now. However, if it's truly over between you two, I strongly suggest that you tell her. If you're ready to move on...get on with your life without her...and with someone else, she deserves to know. And she needs to hear it from you...not me, not the office grapevine, and certainly not Devan."

"You think there's no chance between us now?" Somehow Woody hadn't counted on Jordan being completely out of his life...at least on this level.

"I can't speak for the lady. I don't know her heart. I just know you've broken it."

* * *

It was lunch time for Jordan. An hour she could have to herself. She normally didn't eat lunch...or breakfast, for that matter. Right now her stomach hurt her too much to eat. So instead of eating, she had grabbed a coffee and decided to take a walk in the park near the morgue. As much as she enjoyed her co-workers, as much as she relished her work, she needed to get away.

Get away and think. Despite all the hours she had put in at the morgue, trying to avoid Woody...trying to avoid Devan, she knew it couldn't last. She knew she had to confront these new demons in her life. In many ways, these were the hardest to deal with. Deep inside herself, Jordan recognized that she loved Woody. Pure and simple. But she had also known that until she had made peace with her past, she couldn't love the man like he needed to be loved...deserved to be loved. And now it was too late. It had taken her too long...and he had gotten tired of waiting.

He had promised he would always be there for her. She remembered – how he had held her when the Malden thing went south. How he would always show up at just the right time with coffee, or for a beer at the Pogue. How closely he would snuggle her to him when they would dance there after everyone else went home.

But all these memories were bittersweet now. Devan had entered the picture. The odd thing was that Jordan had like Devan. Everyone else had thought her pushy...a ME who got just a little too consumed with her cases. Jordan guessed the reason she liked Devan was that she identified with the girl. She knew where Devan was coming from....she suffered from the same consuming passion over her own cases. They had gotten along just fine.

Until now. Now Devan seemed set on pursing the one thing...the one person in Jordan's life she thought she could depend on...the one who always said he'd be there. Only now he wasn't. She sighed. Another man in her life who had lied through his teeth to her....

"Jordan?" She heard her name. Please don't let it be him...not now.

"Jo?" There it was again. It was Woody.

"Can we talk?" he asked, slightly out of breath. He had caught sight of her from his office window and had run all the way down to the park to talk to her.

"Do we have to? Now, I mean?" she asked.

"I think now's a good time."

"Okay. I've got 45 minutes left on my lunch break. Have a seat." She motioned to a park bench nearby.

"Jordan...God, this is hard, you know?" he began.

"Just say it, Woody...just say it," she said, instinctively knowing where he was going with this conversation.

"I'm sorry, Jordan." He reached out to try to take her hand, but she pulled away. She didn't want him to touch her. She couldn't bear it.

"I don't know how to say this...other than just to tell you. I got tired of waiting on you, Jo. I cared so much for so long and got so little in return. I know you had issues to deal with, but I didn't know if you'd ever work through them. I guess I got tired of wondering when and if there was going to be any of you left for me. I didn't set out for this to happen....I never began working closely with Devan with the idea that something could happen between us. But it did. She's there for me...she listens. She keeps her promises. I guess I never realized how lonely I was until she and I started...well..."

"It's okay, Woody," Jordan said quietly, trying her best to keep her voice normal. There was no need to act like she was a high school kid whose heart had just been broken. "I understand. Really, I do. Don't worry about it. I won't act like a bitch when I answer your calls. I won't interfere with you and Devan. I hope you two make a real go of it...maybe you two are cut out for each other. Be happy for yourself." She stood to go.

"I'm sorry, too, Woody. Sorry that it didn't work out between us. You're a great guy. I hate it took me so long to work through my problems. But I have. And now maybe this is for the best. Maybe it is time for you to move on with your life and me to move on with mine." She reached out and gently touched his sleeve. "However, thanks for being there for me...through the Malden thing...and all the times I've gotten my ass way in deep trouble and you've been there to bail me out. I'll never forget it."

And she turned and walked off.

Woody's eyes followed her as she walked back through the park, and into the morgue.

Somehow that hadn't gone like he expected. He hung his head and made his way back to his office. What did he expect? Tears? Not from Jordan. Yelling? Hysterics? No, that wasn't Jordan, either. _I guess I ought to be glad she took it so calmly...so maturely,_ he thought. _Yeah, I guess this is for the better_. Funny, it didn't feel better. It felt awful.


	4. A Controlled Run

**Chapter Four**

Weeks passed. Then a month. Then two months. Jordan was beginning to take pride in herself ... the way she acted around Devan...her conduct with Woody. "Are you sure you're okay?" Nigel had asked her at one point. "You're taking this far too calmly."

"It's over, Nige. It's behind me."

Nigel gave Jordan a close look. "Yeah, right, and I'm the bloody Queen of England. You're not over Woody. Not for one second will I believe that. You're just coping. In my mind, you won't truly be over the man until I see you lock-lipped with someone else and giving him the same looks you slipped to Woodrow when you thought no one else was watching."

Jordan blushed. In a way, Nigel was more right than he knew. She was just going through the motions. Taking one day at the time. She hadn't really moved on any. Nigel and Garrett both knew she worked all she could... taking any and all the hours she could get. Garrett had echoed Nigel's concern on more than one occasion.

No. Her life wasn't really back in any order. She had isolated herself. She only talked with Lily, Nigel, Bug, and Garrett. And while her father was finally back at the Pogue, things were still to stilted between them to have any conversation other than small talk. She worked. She went home. She rarely went out. Nigel and Garrett had dragged her kicking and screaming for dinner and drinks a couple of times, but that was it. She preferred the solitude of the morgue or the solitude of her apartment.

Her life was in a rut...and she knew it.

Woody's however, seemed to be moving on at quite a rapid pace. He and Devan often had lunch together. And several times, she had seen them leaving together after they both had worked late. Whether they had been heading back to his apartment or hers, Jordan didn't want to know. Her worse nightmares were them together...his arms around Devan. Holding her while they danced. Kissing her...and more...her mind didn't want to go there, even if reality was trying to tell her a different story.

She kept her composure at work. She'd do autopsy with Devan. She'd even go out on Woody's calls. He never requested her anymore, but sometimes she was the one on rotation and she got his call. These times were the hardest for her. Working with him, being that close to him...and knowing he was not hers to touch any longer. Knowing that there would be no drinks together after finishing the autopsy and trace. Knowing that he would be spending that time with Devan.

But she kept it together. Even when he would absent-mindedly put his hand on the small of her back to help her around a crime scene. When he would reach out his hand to help her down into a ravine...or up a hill...or into her car. She kept herself together.

And then go back to her office to cry her eyes out.

Garrett found her like this one day after she had been out on a long call with Woody. He had tapped at her door, but she hadn't heard him through her muffled sobs. He quietly entered, and after seeing her like this, had shut and locked her door. He pulled her over from the corner of her couch, where she had been huddled in, crying her eyes out. Gently taking her in his arms, he let her sob until she was spent. Then, in his wise way, had asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

Drying her eyes with the back of her hands, she said, "I thought it would get easier, Garrett. I really did. It hasn't. In some ways, it's gotten harder. What am I going to do?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Jordan. For the first time in your life, you're in love. And instead of it being a great experience for you, the kind of experience I wanted you to have, it's hurtful and mean. I know it's hard seeing him all the time...and what makes it worse is that you two work together. You've been great...a real professional to him and Devan, but I know it's eating you up on the inside."

She nodded. "I just don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

"Can I tell you something? Give you some advice?"

"Sure." She blew her nose on a tissue and looked at him expectantly.

"Run."

Jordan let out a short laugh. "After all these years of you telling me not to run, to face my responsibilities, you're now telling me to run?"

"In a controlled way."

Jordan gave him a puzzled look.

"Get a transfer."

Jordan felt all the color drain out of her face. "A transfer? Away from Boston? But Garret..."

"Not forever. Just for a while. Go to one of the morgue's that has a teaching university attached to it...Duke in North Carolina, University of Texas in Dallas. Take some classes. Work in their morgue. Get some more training and come back here. It will let you get over Woody...get you some time away from him. Then, when you come back here, I can issue you a pay raise because of your additional training. Two for two. Can't get any better odds than that."

"For how long?"

"Most programs are from one to two years."

"Two years?" That seemed like such a long time...

"It's not that long," Garrett said, reading her mind. "You can always come back for holidays...and who knows who you may meet?" he finished, grinning at her.

She got up from the couch and began to pace. Garrett let her go, knowing that if she was pacing, she was thinking.

"Do you know anyone at Duke?"

"Yeah. The chief ME is a guy named Mike Beechler. I can give him a call."

"Okay. Let's do it."

Garrett nodded. He hated to see Jordan leave for two years...hell, he'd miss her like he'd miss his own daughter. But she needed to get over this thing....and Woody. And she couldn't as long as she was seeing him everyday...having to work with him. Hopefully, during this time, Woody may move on, too...maybe even back to Wisconsin. Garrett couldn't help but think that might be the best thing for both of them.


	5. Blinded

**Chapter Five**

Jordan opened the door of her apartment and pulled her luggage through the door. Right after their talk in her office, Garrett had arranged an appointment with Dr. Beechler at Duke University. Three days later, Jordan found herself on a flight to North Carolina. She had landed in Charlotte, got a rental car, and drove into Durham.

She had been impressed with the program. She had been impressed with Duke. And she had been impressed with the morgue at Chapel Hill.

And Dr. Beechler had been impressed with her. A large, imposing-looking man, Jordan nearly had pulled up short when she met him...he was even taller than Nigel and much bigger. A giant of a man, with a full-beard and a deep voice. She had nearly found herself intimidated by him, until he had caught her in the gentlest hug she had ever had. "So you're Jordan?" he had asked, with a twinkle in his eye, "Macy's protégée?"

"Ummmm, I guess?"

Dr. Beechler had chuckled. "Garrett and I went to grad school together. Got into more trouble than I can even begin to remember, or care to. He's told me a lot about you." They had talked and he took her on a tour of the university, and then the morgue. "This could work, Jordan," he had told her. "You've got skills we could use here and there are some new procedures and methods you could learn from us. The two year program is all yours, if you want it. We'll help you find housing. We'll do whatever we need to in order to make this a smooth transition for you."

She had swallowed hard. It was all becoming so final. "Can I have a few days to think about it?" she had asked.

"Sure. It is a big decision. Garrett said you'd been in Boston most of your life. And while two years isn't long, it is a good while to uproot yourself from your home. Take a week. Give me a call. But the position is yours if you want it and I won't offer it to anyone else until I hear from you."

She had shaken his hand and said good-bye to the rest of the morgue staff and flew home. Which was where she was now. Back in her stuffy, little apartment faced with what seemed like a huge decision in her life. _What do I do? _she thought. _It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. I could learn so much...and get over him at the same time. But two years...so much could happen in two years..._

The strident ringing of her cell phone broke through her thoughts.

"Cavanaugh," she said as she flipped open her phone.

"Jordan, are you home?" It was Garrett, and unless she was wrong, she could hear a note of panic in his voice.

"Yeah, just walked through the door. What's up?" _I hope he doesn't need me to come in right now...I have a lot to think about._

"It's Woody, Jordan...there's been an accident."

She felt like the bottom had dropped out of her world.

"Is he okay...alive?" she asked, nearly choking on the words.

"He's alive, but he's not in real good condition, Jo."

"What's...what's wrong, Garrett...tell me. I can take it."

"He's blind."


	6. How Many Ways Can You Spell Fool?

**Chapter Six**

Jordan rounded the corner of the hospital hallway at a full run. She had stayed on the line with Garrett long enough to get the information of where he was at and had sped off to Massachusetts General. She stopped in the waiting room of the eleventh floor long enough to catch her breath and try to find out more details. Looking around, she saw Nigel and Lily, who looked as if she had been crying for a while. Rene' Walcott was on her phone, but flipped it shut when she caught sight of Jordan. Devan was no where to be seen. Jordan assumed she was in the room with Woody.

"How is he?" she asked, as she soon found herself surrounded by them.

"He's stable...that's about all we know right now," said Rene', gently rubbing her hand down Jordan's arm. While it was widely known that Rene' and Jordan didn't get along, Rene' had been hoping that Woody and Jordan would make a go of things...especially since Jordan had seemingly put her past behind her and settled down.

"When will we know something?" Jordan asked. She had to know something...soon...or she was going to explode.

"Garrett's back there now with him. He should be out in a minute," Nigel said. He saw the panic in Jordan's face...and the confusion. She wasn't sure what she should do...how concerned she should be...what was her place. "You okay, love?"

Jordan shook her head. "No...not until I know...."

At that moment, Garrett came through the swinging doors of the critical care unit. He gently pulled Jordan and Nigel aside. Lily and Rene' soon joined them.

"What happened, Garrett? I need to know....what? How is he...please?" Jordan pleaded.

"He's doing okay right now. He's on oxygen, but only with the nose clips. He's got some IVs running – a few lines for medicine, nutrition, that sort of thing. His eyes are bandaged."

"What happened?" she asked.

"It was supposed to be a routine drug bust. His department heard rumors of a meth lab over off of Culvert Place. They substantiated the rumors. Supposedly, the lab was no longer working, but they were selling out of the apartment. He went over with the under covers doing drug surveillance, because they were afraid there was going to be some trouble. The door was broken down, and as usual, Woody was the first one through the door. We don't know if it was a deliberate act on the dealers or not, but the meth lab blew up – right in Woody's face. The doctors are not sure if his blindness is due to the light from the explosion or the chemicals from the meth. Or a combination of both. It could be days before they know."

Jordan listened to all of this, carefully taking it in. "Can I see him?" she asked softly. "Will he let me see him? Will Devan mind?"

"Devan?" asked Nigel, incredulously. "Oh, that's right...you haven't been in the office for nearly a week. Devan's gone."

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Got a phone call from mommy in Paris. She had procured a position for her lovely daughter there in a medical institute. Devan was on a plane quicker than you could say 'French fry' and is out of ours and Woody's lives."

The shock showed on Jordan's face. "So...then he's alone?"

"All alone, love. No one."

Turning back to Garrett, she asked again, "Can I see him?"

Garrett nodded and walked her down the hall. "What are you going to do, Jo? Do you think this is the wisest thing for you to be doing?"

"I need to see him...just to make sure he's okay."

"That's not what I meant." Garrett stopped her and pulled her around to face him. "I know where your mind's going. You're going to take him home with you and take care of him as soon as they release him. You've got a great opportunity waiting for you in North Carolina. Let me remind you that Woody was the one who broke up with you....not the other way around. How do you know when it's all over...when he's well, he still won't leave you again?"

"I don't, Garrett. And that's the thing about loving someone. You just don't know all the answers. It's like Woody told me one time – you've got to follow your heart."

* * *

She quietly entered his hospital room. Some of the equipment she was still familiar with from her time training to be a heart surgeon. The pumps...the monitors...the tubes. She grimaced. Not a whole lot had changed. A critical care unit was still a critical care unit. Except this time everything was all hooked up to Woody. All the machines were monitoring him – the man who still held her heart...even if he didn't want it anymore. Quietly, she made her way over to his bed. Despite his six-foot plus frame, he looked smaller in that hospital bed. She grinned to herself. Too many times she had cursed her shortness when he had towered over her, giving her the tenth degree on something she had done wrong...looking down his nose at her, angry...flustered...frustrated. But she had relished his height...his masculinity ...his strength... when he held her...as they danced, when he hugged her...when he stood behind her with his hand on the small of her back – to guide her through a crowded room or a tricky homicide scene.

Now he seemed smaller...vulnerable...and the patches over his eyes did nothing to dispel this. Jordan noted each eye had a circular pad over it and then both were held in place by another bandage that went completely around his head. The white gauze was quite a contrast to his tanned face and unruly hair. She had hardly made a sound since she entered the room... still standing in the doorway, observing him, when he turned his head and said quietly, "Jordan?"

Amazed that he had heard her...and even more amazed that he knew who it was, she walked over to the bed and placed her hands on the rail. "Hey..."

His hands moved around, trying to find hers. Gently she placed one of hers in his. "How'd you know it was me?"

He smiled sadly. "You know what they've taught you in med school – when one sense is taken away, the others become sharper?"

"Yeah..."

He chuckled. "Your perfume...I smelled your perfume...lavender and vanilla. You're the only person I know who wears that. I knew it was you."

"Other than your eyes, how are you feeling, Woody?"

"Headache...hurt pride...but other than that, I'm okay."

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner..."

"Yeah, I know. Macy told me you had an interview in North Carolina. Did it go well?"

"Real well. They've offered me the position."

"Going to take it?"

At that moment, the nurse came in. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she told Jordan. "You can come back in a few minutes. The doctor needs to examine Detective Hoyt's eyes."

Jordan nodded and squeezed Woody's hand. "I'll be back in a few minutes, if you want me."

He sighed. He was only just beginning to realize how much he still wanted her. And now, if she took that position in Durham, he may not have her again for a long time. Even if she decided to stay in Boston, he may not be able to make things right. How many ways could you spell the word 'fool'? He knew of only one – W-O-O-D-Y.


	7. His Own Personal Darkness

**Chapter Seven**

The days hung still for Woody. He had no idea whether it was day or night. In his world, now, it was always dark. He marked the passage of time by the changing of the shifts of the medical staff.

He had company. Eddie Winslow. Lois Carver. Annie Capra. And a half a dozen other detectives he had worked closely with over the past several years. Even the chief came by...promised him a citation, a promotion, a medal. It was all dust in Woody's mouth now. Everything he had worked for...cherished ... had been stripped from him in a blinding moment of duty.

His eyes. The doctors had examined him. And re-examined him. The optic nerves were fried. Whether it was from the chemicals in the meth explosion or the light and heat from the explosion itself, no one knew. And it really didn't matter. Time would only tell if the nerves could repair themselves. Until then...he was off-duty with pay. "Give it time," Eddie had said, when he arrived with the news. "There's all sorts of procedures...God only knows what they'll be able to do for your eyes. Transplants...laser surgery."

Woody didn't have the heart to tell him that none of that had to do with nerves or their repair. That all dealt with lenses. He knew. He had asked the doctors the very same questions himself.

So he lay there in the dark...his own personal night...wondering what he was going to do. The job security and chance of promotion for a blind detective was nil. Unless he suddenly took a great liking to paperwork. Which he didn't and wouldn't. He was too active to see himself planted behind a desk for the next twenty-five or so years. So what did that leave him? He didn't know.

He sighed and moved restlessly in his bed. Devan hadn't called. Not that he really expected her to. When she had told him about her new position in Paris, he had been excited for her. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and she knew it. So did he. He also knew that she wasn't about to let a small-town detective from Kewuanne hold her back. He had been the one to put her on the plane. And he had been the one that returned to Boston to try to sort out his personal life before his world went dark.

Jordan. She hadn't called him either, although the nurse at the desk said she would phone them every morning, getting an update on his condition. Sometimes twice a day. She never asked for her call to be transferred to his room. Garrett had been by. Said she was very busy, still trying to decide what to do about North Carolina. Woody was under the impression that Garrett hoped she would take the new job. Not because the chief ME necessarily wanted her gone, but because he felt the time away would be good for Jordan...both personally and professionally. Woody had a feeling he was the personal reason Garrett wanted her to go.

Nigel had dropped by for a few minutes. Things were still pretty awkward between the two men. Nigel was resentful that Woody had hurt Jordan. And Woody didn't know what to tell him, other than it was a mistake. A huge mistake on his part. A mistake he wanted to rectify, but didn't know how. He had asked about Jordan, but Nigel had been pretty noncommittal. She was still pondering North Carolina. She was still working hard...they all were. Now they were covering for both Peter and Devan. A new ME, Sydney, had been hired, but it was going to take a while to get him acclimated. Woody got the impression that the employee crunch at the morgue would be the only reason she would turn down Duke and Chapel Hill at this time.

He rolled to his side, his back to the door, feeling around for the switch to flip off the TV. The nurses left it on to keep him company. He may not be able to see it, but he could hear the news...sports...music. Right now, it was just a painful reminder of what he may have lost...his sight...his profession...his girl. He dozed off to sleep.

* * *

She stood in the doorway a long time, not sure if he was asleep, or deep in thought. Without being able to see those blue eyes of his, she really couldn't tell. Finally, not seeing him move or toss around in bed, she surmised he was resting. She quietly turned away from the doorway and took a seat outside his room.

For days she had stayed away. Days that had seemed like months. She had been busy...too busy...with two ME's short at the morgue, she could have worked 24/7 and not kept up. But the new guy was there....and another ME had been loaned out to them from another morgue until Garrett could hire someone else. She and Nigel both had been ordered to go home and not show their faces for at least 48-hours. Get some rest. Direct orders from the DA.

But her hectic schedule wasn't what really kept her away. She wasn't sure he wanted to see her...that she had a place, a right, to be by his bed. She knew his parents had not been called...not even Cal....at his request. He hadn't wanted to worry them until he knew something definite.

And definite was coming soon. Jordan knew this for a fact. She had gotten on quite chummy terms with the head nurse of the morning shift. She was the one Jordan called every morning on her coffee break at the morgue to find out how Woody was doing. At 10:15, every morning, she would pick up her cell phone and call the nurse to find out about him. How was he...mentally and physically. The nurse, Gwen, kept her up to date.

Then this morning, Gwen hadn't waited for Jordan to call. Gwen called her. Woody was ready to go home. But he couldn't leave unless he had someone to stay with him, or somewhere for him to stay at. He still wasn't ready to go fly solo blind. Jordan had spent the morning in a great deal of thought. She had walked the park and ended up at his apartment...to her surprise. Sometimes her subconscious did a number on her. Today was one of those days. She still had a key. She let herself in and went into his bedroom...breathing in him...his scent...their memories.

To her surprise, there were no pictures of Devan...nothing....it was like she had never been in the apartment. No stray sweaters....no blonde hairs....no lingering scents of Devan's perfume. Only Woody. Truthfully, she had never been in Woody's bed...nor he in hers. They had had an understanding...when it was over, when her past demons had been tamed...then...they would take all the time in the world...and make love. She had shaken herself over that memory. She had waited too long to cage her monsters. Making love to him...with him wouldn't happen now.

But what was she going to do? Go to North Carolina and spend the next two years in Duke's program? Or stay here and take care of him? Garrett had warned her she would have to make a decision. He had been right. He hadn't tried to persuade her too much either way, just make a decision she could live with...and its consequences. She had walked into his bathroom and faced herself in the mirror. She knew what she had to do. Or at least offer to do. Her wall had to come down...the one she had erected to keep him from hurting her in some way. She had to leave herself open to that...open to the fact that she could bring him into her apartment...back into her life...take care of him...show him how much she did love him...

And he could turn around and walk back out of her life without so much as blinking a blind eye.

But could she live with herself if she at least didn't try?

So she was here waiting. Waiting for the doctor to come in. And Gwen. They were going to talk to him. Soon she saw Gwen heading for Woody's room, followed by the doctor. "Stay outside for just a minute..." the nurse had whispered to Jordan, "If he knows you're there...he may not agree."

She heard them talk to Woody...that he was ready to go home...they could do no more for him medically, other than wait for three to four weeks to see how the optic nerves were healing. Did he have somewhere he could go? Someone that could stay with him?

Jordan saw his brow furrow and him shake his head. "I don't know...I guess I could call my brother, but he just started a new job...Mom and Dad aren't able...they can't leave the farm that long...Can I have a few hours to think this one through?"

She quietly slipped through the door and came to the side of his bed. In his confusion and desperation, he hadn't heard her come in. Gently she reached down and took his hand. "You can stay with me."


	8. Restoring Dignity

**Chapter Eight**

Gingerly, Jordan guided Woody out of the elevators and to her apartment door. "Stay right there," she warned, "Don't move."

"I'm not a three year-old, Jordan."

She sighed. No, he definitely wasn't a three year-old boy, but he sure as hell was acting like one. She remembered some of her married friends' comments that sick men were nothing but big babies. She had shrugged it off at the time. Now she fervently believed it.

"I know... I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

Woody leaned back against the wall as he heard her fumble for her keys, his hands still clutching the white cane with the red tip that the therapist had given him. He hated it. It marked him as different...disabled. The words were bitter in his mouth. He hadn't wanted to go home with Jordan. Not a bit

The problem was he didn't have much of a choice. It was either that or call his parents. He picked the lesser of two evils.

Not that a doting Jordan wasn't a keen fantasy. He imagined she would make sure he had the best of everything. He just hated her seeing him this way...weak...dependent. In the past, she had always depended on him...a relationship he was comfortable with.

He wasn't comfortable with this. He hated depending on anyone. Most of all, someone that depended on him, whether she would ever admit it or not.

"There we go," she said, finally opening the door and guiding him inside. "Let me get your stuff put in the bedroom and then we'll get you settled." She smiled at him, realizing that he couldn't see it, but could probably hear it in her voice. She was glad he was here, so she could take care of him. Despite his grumblings otherwise, he really was better off with her. After their discussions with the doctor yesterday, she had made a precursory examination of his body...something she could easily do without him noticing now. And she had observed a couple of things that concerned her. First, he had lost weight...something that would not normally be a problem with his six-foot-plus frame, but to her it was an indication he either wasn't eating, or wasn't being fed. His full lunch-tray had bore witness to that fact. The second thing she saw that bothered her was on his back. Woody had a few bedsores that weren't being attended to. He wasn't being turned over in the bed properly or as frequently as he needed to be. She had cursed herself for not returning to the hospital...not looking after him like he needed to be looked after.

Coming back into her living room, she saw that he had found his way to the couch and was stretched out on it. She walked over and sat down beside him. "Hey, feel like lunch?"

He shook his head. "Not hungry."

Jordan held her breath and counted to ten. "You need to eat, Woody. You've lost weight. You can't get better without proper nutrition."

"I know that Dr. Cavanaugh. I just don't feel like eating right now."

Then it hit Jordan. The reason he didn't want to eat was that she would have to feed him. He wasn't going to let himself be seen as weak in anyway...even if it meant he was hurting himself. She grinned. She could beat him at this game.

"Well, I'm going to fix some soup and a sandwich. I'll make you some, just in case."

"Jordan..."

"I'll be in the kitchen. If you need me, call me. Don't try to get up without me. Here's the remote for the TV. Find yourself something interesting to listen to."

Woody heard her rummaging around in her kitchen, humming to herself. Desolately, he switched on the TV, clicking the channels until he got to ESPN. He was listening to the spring baseball stats when he heard Jordan re-appear in the living room. "Here," she said, sitting something down on the coffee table, then helping him sit up.

"I told you I didn't want anything..."

"And I told you that you needed proper nutrition." She thrust a mug of tomato soup in his hand. "Eat it...and be happy."

He was hungry...and the soup smelt wonderful...and it was in a mug. Greedily he downed it and turned to her with a sheepish grin. "More?"

She smiled. "Sure. Meanwhile, work on the BLT." She placed a half a sandwich in his hand and went back into the kitchen. She knew, instinctively, while it was important that she take care of Woody, make sure he was okay...that she do nothing to strip away what dignity he had left. And whatever she did, she would have to leave his manhood intact. He needed both of those things in order to survive. If she did anything to denigrate either one, she would loose him forever. Feeding himself was the first step to restoring both.

Twenty minutes, three mugs of tomato soup and two BLTs later, Woody was full. He stretched back out on the couch. "Wait a minute, Farm Boy," she said. She put a napkin in his hand. "Wipe your mouth." He grinned up at where her voice was coming from and nodded.

"You're enjoying this too much Cavanaugh."

"Sure...sure. Now take a nap and be good."

He heard her return to the kitchen and clean up after lunch. He felt better with a full stomach. That was for sure. And she would never know how grateful he was that she arranged everything so that he could feed himself. Whether she had known, guessed, or it was just a shot in his dark world, he was thankful.

She was humming again. He had no idea she hummed to herself as she did housework. Did she always do that? He couldn't remember. It was good to be back in her apartment, he had to admit. It had been a long time...and he never expected to return under conditions such as these, if ever.

She had surprised him when she offered to let him stay with her. It blew him away. But she had been sincere. And insistent. "You've done so much for me in the past, Woody...you've taken care of me. Let me take care of you for just a little while...return the favor...please?" She made it sound like he was doing her the favor...instead of the other way around.

He had reluctantly agreed. He had no other choice. When she came to pick him up today, he had been ready – until he discovered what she had on. Jeans, for sure. She always wore jeans. But it was the soft, satiny shirt that had nearly been his undoing. He knew that she probably didn't think twice before putting it on, but now for him, with his sight taken and his other senses heightened, the feel of the fabric under his fingers, between them and her skin did a number on him. He had nearly backed out right then. It had felt too good...she had felt too good. Drifting off to sleep, he remembered just how good the bare skin on her arms felt.

* * *

Later, Jordan had woke him up to eat dinner. Pizza. Another finger food. They had laughed and she had given him a beer. "One...maybe two, if you're a good boy," she warned. "I don't need you so tipsy I can't get you to bed."

Bed. He swallowed hard. He hadn't thought about where he'd be sleeping. Here? On the couch? Or the bedroom?

Would she be with him? She'd have to be nearby. He still couldn't manage getting up at night by himself. He wouldn't let her sleep on the floor beside him. She needed her rest, too.

She caught the agitation on his face, and wondered what was wrong, as she absent-mindedly pulled the black olives off her pizza. She ordered them for him...she didn't like them. While he had been asleep, she had called Garrett and told him what she had decided. She had already talked with Mike Beechler, explaining most of the situation to him. "That's fine," he had replied. "I understand...when this guy is better, on his own, if you still want to come, give me a call. The position is still yours then, if you want it." She was grateful. She still may need to take him up on it.

Garrett was a little more hesitant. "Are you sure, Jordan?" he had asked.

"I've really thought about it. I have to try to do this...as much for me as it is for him, Garrett."

"Okay...if that's what you think."

"One more thing, though, boss..."

"I know....all five years of that personal time you've been building up...you want it now?"

"Is it too much trouble?"

"I can give you a couple of weeks, if Nigel and Bug don't mutiny. Sydney is doing well, and the loaner ME is doing okay, too. Anything more is doubtful...think you can work something out?"

"Yeah."

"Okay... be careful Jordan."

"I will...and thanks Garrett."

He had grown quiet. "Through with your pizza?" she asked.

He nodded. She was glad to see he had eaten over half of the it. She had been right. He had been hungry and wouldn't lower his pride to let someone feed him. Hungry, he had been hungry. The thought of him being hungry and blind cut her to the quick. She felt the tears well up in her eyes and she quickly willed them away. If he heard them or felt them, he would take it as pity and he'd be out the door as quickly as his feet and cane would take him.

"Ready for bed?"

"Where will I be sleeping, Jordan?" he asked quietly

She hesitated on this one. This was the one area she expected the biggest fight on.

"With me, Woody."


	9. Sleeping Arrangements

**Chapter Nine**

"No. I don't think that is a wise idea," he protested.

"I remember not so long ago you would have jumped at the chance," she teased, trying to get him to lighten his mood...see things her way...be sensible.

"That was a long time ago..."

"No it wasn't, stud." She was still trying to get him to lighten up.

"No. No, Jordan...I can stay on the couch."

She was tired. It had been a long day. And the hell with his macho self-deprivation. He needed sleep and so did she. Hands on her hips she walked over to where he was sitting and looked down at him.

"No," she said in her sternest voice.

He quickly rose from the couch, towering his full six foot plus figure over her. "Jordan.." he began.

Just as swiftly she put one hand to his chest and pushed him back down on the couch. "No. This one issue will be done my way. While you've been in my apartment before, you've never been in here _blind_. You may need to get up quickly...you may need me. And if I'm in one room and you're in another, I may not hear you. You know what a sound sleeper I am. We are sleeping _together_ until we _both_ feel comfortable that you can manage by yourself. Am I clear on this?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good....and no more lip from you Detective Hoyt. Let me do the dinner dishes and I'll run you a bath."

"Do I get a rubber ducky?"

"Funny, Woody...."

Still chuckling she went back into the kitchen. She had won a major battle without hurting him too much.

He would never know what a difficult decision it was for her to make...sleeping with him... being close to him again, and not needing to touch him. Despite the fact that Devan was gone...he still wasn't hers. She had no right to show him anything other than compassion.

A few minutes later, she emerged and ran his bath water. "Think you can manage getting in and out of the tub?" she asked after she let him feel his way around the bathroom.

"What happens if I fall?"

"I won't let you drown," she smirked and closed the bathroom door. She sat in the bedroom while he bathed. A few minutes later, he was finished. "My clothes, Jordan?" he asked.

"Right here...hang on."

She handed him his sleep pants and t-shirt. After he got dressed, she tucked him in. "Where are you going?" he asked, tugging on her arm.

"I'll be right in the living room. I need to check my e-mail before turning in."

And she did need to check her e-mail. But she also wanted to give him time to go to sleep before she crawled in the bed with him. She was afraid it may be too awkward right now...and she wanted him to rest. An hour later, she went into check on him. The pizza, beer, and warm bath worked the trick she wanted. He was sound asleep. A thought pricked her conscious. She had forgotten to check his bedsores. But he had taken a bath...that would have cleaned them. She would dress them tomorrow.

Right now she had to get undressed and ready for bed. She changed into her girl boxers and a tank top and brushed out her hair. She hesitated before she crawled in under the covers. She was sleeping with Woody. Despite his blindness, despite the bandages that still covered his eyes, her mouth still went dry every time she looked at him. He was a gorgeous man. Gently, she eased down beside him, holding her breath, trying her best not to wake him up. He needed to rest. She turned her back to his, fighting the desire...the impulse to wrap her arms around him and hold him. _He's not yours anymore_, she sternly reminded herself as she drifted off to sleep.

And woke up several hours later, with him spooning her against his body, his arm possessively wrapped around her waist. Gently, she tried to disengage herself from his grip, but it did no good. He only tightened his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. _Oh God,..._ she thought, _if this is the way the next few weeks are going to be...damn. He's going to make it difficult for me to tell him goodbye. I'll miss him too much when he's gone._

_But what are you going to do about it now?_ She heard her conscious ask.

_Enjoy the hell out of it_, was the only sensible thing she could come up with.

* * *

Woody woke the next morning feeling much better, even if his world was still dark. And it was getting better all the time, as he awoke to the sensation of a very feminine body curled up next to his. She was still there. He had felt her and heard her when she had gotten in bed with him last night. He had noted her hesitation before she climbed into bed. He had feigned sleep in order to make her comfortable. She needed to rest. God knows she did. He had been a bear to take care of at times...sometimes even crossing the line into being a bastard. He had made a vow to be nicer. Especially after all she did for him.

He didn't take for granted the planning she did for lunch or dinner. Or the beer. It was all for him to make him feel normal...whole again. He had wanted to do something for her...he wasn't sure what, until a thought hit him. She had told him, some time back that she felt the safest in his arms. It was after the Malden incident, after Max had left Boston. He had gone to the Pogue at closing, to make sure she got to her car safely. She had closed up. He had slid two quarters in the jukebox and asked her to dance. He had picked a slow song and had held her closely...when the song was over, she had made no effort to move out of his arms. So he had held her and softly asked what was wrong.

"Nothing," she had replied.

"You sure?" he had asked.

"I just feel safest when I'm in your arms," she had finally confessed, hiding her face in his shirt and snuggling closer.

Damn him. He should have taken her home and made love to her right then and there. Instead, they both had hesitated. And here they were now. He still may have been blind, even if they were together, but at least there wouldn't have been this rift between them...there wouldn't have been Devan.

So he did what he could for her now. He had rolled over, pulled her to him and held her...hoping somewhat to convey to her that even without his sight, she was safe ... safe with him and from anything that might harm her. It was still early, he drifted back off to sleep, still holding her...still pondering his past...and what part it may play in his future.


	10. PMS on Steriods

**Chapter Ten**

Jordan carefully untangled herself from his arms and slid her leg out from between his. She paused for a moment to catch her breath. If sleeping with this man every night meant being held so tightly....she blushed. She knew she'd do it every night for the rest of her life, if given the opportunity. She made for the shower and then began to fix breakfast – French toast sticks and syrup. She had really gone out of her way to make sure most of what she had in the refrigerator and freezer could be managed with his fingers....at least for a while. Then she'd build up to a fork and spoon.

Going back over to the bed, she gently shook Woody. "Hey...wake up."

"I am awake."

"Oh. Sorry. Can't tell..."

"When do these bandages come off?"

"The end of the week... I'll take you back to Dr. Little. You'll still have to wear sunglasses when you're outside, though."

"That's still better than these," he tugged at the bandages over his eyes.

"Be careful! You don't want to do anymore damage..."

"I don't see what else could possibly make it worse."

She pulled his hands away and helped him up out of bed. "Kitchen. Breakfast. Eat." She commanded in a playful voice.

"Yes ma'am."

He ate breakfast with a good appetite, much to Jordan's relief. It was good to see him eat...regaining his weight and his color. He looked better. Now she had to get him dressed, change the bandages on his eyes, and dress his bedsores.

"Shower?" she asked him.

"With you?"

"Woody....no. I've already had mine. I was asking if you wanted to get a shower."

He sighed. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying...yes. A shower would be good."

She led him back to the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature. After letting him feel his way around the bathtub again, she left him to shower in private. Thankfully, he was able to attend to most of his personal hygiene and grooming himself. She heard the water turn off and him step out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around himself and came back into the bedroom, and started to reach for his clothes on the bed.

"Hey," she said, stopping him.

"What are you still doing in here?" he asked rather stiffly.

She swallowed...his mood had changed from the teasing banter they had this morning. "I....I... need to change the bandages on your eyes and check your back."

"My back? What's wrong with it?"

"Bedsores. The nurses at the hospital didn't turn you enough...you have three bedsores on your back. I need to dress them so they don't get infected."

"Oh." He held out his hand, trying to find the edge of the bed to sit on. She grasped his it and gently led him over to sit down. Then she set to work on his back, sitting behind him on the bed, rubbing in antibiotic ointment and covering them with bandages. Then, with some trepidation, she began to change his eye bandages. They were a little wet from the shower. She lowered the lights in the bedroom first, and pulled the shades. Carefully, she cut the bandage off that circled his head and then removed the gauze pads.

His skin was a little red from being bandaged. She gently washed the area, including his eyes, with a warm cloth and saline. He winced just a bit. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not too bad...it's just sensitive."

He was right. She was no expert, but she could see where some of the meth chemicals had burned him...and probably his eyes. There would be scaring....not noticeable to anyone unless they got really up close to him, but scars he would carry on his body and in his mind for the rest of his life, seeing or blind. She carefully dried the area and replaced the pads and gauze, being cautious not to make the bandages too tight. "There," she said when she was through. "Better?"

It did feel better...both his back and his eyes. She touch had been light and caring...he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yeah. Much," he said brusquely. "Can I get dressed now?"

Confused at his sudden mood swing, she answered "Yes," and let herself out of her bedroom.

* * *

She knew sick men were babies. That theory had been confirmed. And she knew disabled men were more prone to depression. That she could live with. But his mood swings were driving her nuts. If she hadn't have known better, she would have been sure Woody was suffering from PMS on steroids. He was nice to her and then he was cold. He was sweet and then he was bitter. She sighed. The only thing that was constant with him were their nights...which neither of them mentioned. She would always go to bed after him... giving him a chance to fall asleep. She would slide into bed with her back towards his back. In the morning she would wake up spooned tightly against him, with his arm possessively wrapped around her waist. If he had awoke and found the situation odd, he never said so.

And she wasn't about to dare mention it, because she was afraid he'd stop doing it.

But today would be different. Today she had to take him back to his doctor. She roused him early and he showered. They grabbed drive through at a fast food joint and made their way to the doctor's office. Soon, she and Woody found themselves waiting in an exam room on Dr. Little.

He came in, finally, and took the bandages off Woody's eyes. He examined the skin around them. Then, he asked Woody the question he had been both dreading and looking forward to since the accident. "Open your eyes, Woody," the doctor commanded softly. Jordan held her breath.

Woody shielded his eyes with one hand and slowly eased his lids open. Jordan caught sight of the brilliant blue she had so missed.

"I can't see. Damn it. I still can't see."


	11. Easing His Way Out

**Chapter Eleven**

They didn't talk much heading back home. Woody didn't have to wear the bandages any longer, but did have to wear dark sunglasses when he was outside. And if the florescent light inside a room bothered him, he would have to wear them indoors, also.

He was upset. Jordan knew that. But she also knew that he couldn't expect to have regained his sight this quickly. It took months for the optic nerves to heal. If they ever did. She and the doctor had exchanged knowing glances when Woody expressed his frustration. Dr. Little had lectured him on the fragility of optic nerves and the healing time, but it did little to relieve Woody's impatience or his anger.

The doctor had pulled Jordan aside as the nurses had helped Woody pick out sunglasses. "You're doing a great job," he said. "He's gained weight...his color is good."

"Thanks," she had replied, "I just can't give him back what he really wants."

"No one can...except maybe time. You do realize how hard this is going to be on you...how depressed, moody, he's going to be..."

"Yeah. I know. I'm experiencing it now."

Dr. Little had smiled grimly. "Oh no, you haven't. Chances are, it's going to get worse."

She had swallowed hard. "Thanks."

"Just don't say I didn't warn you. If you need to talk to someone about it, call my office and ask for me or one of the nurses. We'll be glad to talk you down out of a tree."

"Before I saw off the limb I'm on?"

The doctor had grinned. "Yeah."

So now they were heading home. Then Jordan got an idea. On an impulse, she pulled into the parking lot of the park that was between her office and Woody's. "Where are we at?" he asked.

"The park. Come on. Let's go for a walk...get you outside for a while."

"I don't think so..."

"No. Woody, come on. You've been inside now for nearly two weeks. You need fresh air and sunshine. I need fresh air and sunshine."

She opened his door and helped him out. "I'm not carrying my cane," he warned. He hated the thing that marked him as disabled...different...half a man, in his mind.

"You don't have to, cowboy. Keep your glasses on and take my arm. People will think we're just another couple in the park for lunch." She put her arm in the crook of his and gently steered him toward the sidewalk. "Now there's the curb," she softly whispered. "That's right...step up. See...you're doing great."

It did feel good to be out...the breeze...the sun...her on his arm. They stopped for hot dogs and sodas. Life seemed normal, at least for the moment. After eating, they walked through the park, looking like a typical couple, her whispering in his ear. But instead of sweet nothings, it was directions. Curb here. Rough sidewalk there. Kids or ducks in front of you. But it worked. He got some exercise and so did she. All too soon, they were back at Jordan's car and were heading home.

She got him inside again and he made for the couch. He was tired. More tired than he let on...the doctor's office and the park had taken a toll on him. Soon he was asleep. At least with the sunglasses and not the bandages, Jordan knew he was sleep. His eyes were closed. Plus he was snoring. She smiled at him fondly, gently easing his glasses off his face.

She loved him. Dear Jesus, how she loved him. But she still didn't know how he felt about her any longer. She knew some of his mood swings were normal for the trauma he was going through. She just didn't know if it was all the result of the accident any longer. Did he miss Devan? Was that one of the reasons he was so moody? He missed her and was frustrated that she wasn't Devan? She wished she knew for sure...at least before she gave her heart completely away to this man again.

In one sense she was equally as frustrated. She had taken that wall down between them and he hadn't noticed...he had paid no attention to her attitude toward him...didn't the man have a clue about how she felt toward him? Or did he care? Was her new-found softness for him for nothing? She sighed. She'd have to wait this one out. First, they had to get his sight back. Then, she'd ask him how he felt really towards her. Meanwhile, she had work to do. Nigel had brought over a stack of files that Garrett wanted her to close out. So while Woody was sleep, she spread the files out on her kitchen counter and set to work, moving from the kitchen to her computer in the den. Woody was sleeping soundly. The noise shouldn't bother him.

Consumed by her work, she didn't notice when Woody woke up. Her nose was buried in files, her computer screen full...he had the opportunity to observe her without her noticing. Or at least listen to her. He heard the computer going and the sound of her flipping through files. She was working. Other than that noise and the sound of her soft breathing there was nothing to hear. But he could smell her perfume. Lavender and vanilla. An old-fashioned scent, but one that surprisingly suited Jordan. It was unique, like she was. She was the only person he knew that wore that perfume, and she wore it well. It lingered. On her. On her files. On his shirt from where she had held his arm this afternoon. Hell, if the truth be known, half his suit coats smelled of her perfume...they had worked so closely together. Before Devan, Jordan and he almost insisted on working together...they thought alike in many ways about cases. But she had an insight he didn't have...she had called in woman's intuition...he had just called it smart. He sighed to himself. He didn't know if they would ever have the opportunity to work together again. He had no idea how much he had missed it.

She was going to have to go back to work at the end of next week. He knew that. Garrett couldn't afford to give her any more time off. He wasn't sure what he was going to do then. He knew they'd work through it. Maybe by then she'd trust him by himself in her apartment. Maybe he could go home. Maybe, by any chance of luck, he'd have his sight back.

And maybe he'd drive himself crazy wondering about her. Who was she working with? What detective? Woody had never been jealous over Jordan...but now he was. He knew she was taking care of him now out of the compassion of her heart...but he was also wise to the fact that she probably didn't want to be saddled with a blind man for the rest of her life. And he surely wouldn't do that to her. After everything that Jordan had been through, she deserved someone who wouldn't burden her. But still...it was driving him crazy, thinking who she might end up with...would he be good to her...how would she feel about him? 

And how would he feel about another man touching her? Waking up with her in his arms in the morning was both heaven and hell. She felt good....and it felt right...but she would ease out ever so gently in the morning to try to keep from waking him. Lot of good that did her. He had been awake long before she stirred. Enjoying holding her...enjoying her closeness. Wondering when it would end and dreading the time that it would.

He would have to be able to live on his own. Soon. He knew he wasn't able to right now...his body was still healing from the after shocks of the explosion. He tired easily. But he'd have to be able to cope. He would have to. He needed to start easing his way out of her life...for her own good.


	12. Dinner, Devan, Eyedrops

**Chapter Twelve**

Dinner was over with for the evening. It had been a stilted affair, with Woody not talking much and Jordan hesitant to push him into a discussion. Whether he was still frustrated from his visit at the doctor's office or frustrated with the fact that she wasn't Devan, Jordan had no clear idea. She nearly mentioned calling Devan to Woody, just to see if that would lighten his attitude a little.

She had no opportunity. As soon as dinner was over, he had pushed back from the table and announced he was going to bed. He had went into the bedroom, and found his sleep pants and t-shirt, when he heard a tentative knock at the doorway. "Yeah?" he asked.

"I need to put your eye drops in," Jordan said, her voice just as tentative as her knock.

Sighing, Woody sat heavily down on the bed. "Come on...get it over with."

Jordan didn't know what to make of his sudden switch in moods again. When they had gotten home from the park, he had been in better state of mind...nearly happy. After his nap, he had woken up sullen again...being short with her. She knew the doctor's report wasn't everything Woody had hoped for, but still, that was not a reason to keep biting her head off. Neither was it her fault she wasn't Devan. She didn't run out on Woody. Devan did. And if he was missing her that badly, maybe he should fly out to Paris to be with Devan instead of staying in Boston with her.

"Jordan?" he asked. He didn't know where she was because she had made no move from the doorway yet.

"Coming." She walked over to where he was sitting on the side of the bed. She removed his glasses and tilted his head back and gently began to drop the medicine in his eyes. She was so concentrated on her task, she had no idea of where it placed her body in relation to Woody's. However he was more than aware, with his other senses heightened from his lack of sight.

He felt her leg brush against his thigh and her breast brush against his shoulder as she leaned over to administer the eye drops, one hand holding the medicine and the other one cradling his head. Woody could feel himself losing it, she was this close...then he felt her shift to do the other side, repeating the motions. Something in his blind eyes must have given his emotions away, because when she was through, she made to quickly pull away from him.

His hands on her waist stopped her. "Don't go," he whispered. "Please."

"Woody, I don't think this is a good idea..." her voice trailed off as he pulled her across him, so one leg was on either side of his body and she was nearly sitting on his lap, facing him.

"Why not?" he asked, pulling her down to him closer, so that their faces were nearly eye level.

"Because...you've been sick....and you're still hurt..."

"I'm better...now..." He tugged her face down and brushed her lips with his.

And for a moment she gave into him...allowed him to kiss her and hold her there, knowing she had been wanting this for a long time. Then it hit her. He was using her as a substitute for Devan. Some of his frustrations may be physical...but some were probably sexual, too. "No," she said and pushed away.

"Jordan?"

"No. I know you're tired of being blind...I know you're tired and frustrated. But I can't help you...not in this area, Woody. I'm sorry. I'm not Devan." She pulled away and went back to the kitchen. And he lay down, wondering the hell had happened and why did he do what he just did?

* * *

She went back into the kitchen and cleaned up the dinner dishes, wishing there was some way she could go back in time, to recapture his mood when he first came home with her. She had loved their joking...the banter...the friendship they had rekindled.

But somewhere along the way it had soured. She knew Dr. Little had warned her things would get worse...even worse than they were right now. She sighed. She didn't know if she could handle worse. In one way she was glad she had to go back to work at the end of this week. It would get her out of the apartment for at least a while. She still wasn't quite sure what she was going to do with Woody. Suddenly, she had much more sympathy for the moms at work who had daycare problems. She was just now beginning to feel their pain. She wasn't sure what "daycare" she could find for Woody.

She walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed, still musing over what had happened between them. She had wanted his kisses. She had longed for his touch for days. Despite the fact that she always got in the bed with her back to his, she always ended up in his arms. He would hold her closely at night, pulled tightly against him, his arm around her waist. It would always end in the mornings when she would carefully extract herself, allowing him a few more minutes of rest. And he would go out of his way not to touch her again the rest of the day.

She paused before she climbed into her bed, gazing at him as the lights from the buildings outside flickered in her windows. She wasn't sure when his eyes would get better. She wasn't even sure if they would. There were a few things she was sure of, though. First, was that she would take care of him. For however long it took, or however long he wanted her to. Second, she knew she loved him...and would take him blind or seeing. He may not know that. He may not like it. Hell, he may not even agree to it. He was a proud and stubborn man...just as hard headed as she was. Which led her to the third issue she knew they would have to discuss...if he didn't get better, if his eyesight didn't return...there was no way in hell she was going to let him out of Boston. He may have come from Wisconsin, but he came with a one way ticket and there was no way he was going back....returning Kewuanee was out of the question.


	13. Dancing Blind

**Chapter Thirteen**

The end of the week...Jordan had to go back to the morgue...back to work...back to a certain level of normalcy in her life. But what to do with Woody....that was a concern. She finally came up with an idea. If she couldn't find anyone to stay with him, he would stay with her...at the morgue. And if she was lucky, really lucky, maybe Annie, Eddie, or Lois would take him to the police station and at least let him hang out with them, if they weren't too busy.

That was the idea. Getting it past Garrett was another thing altogether.

"I don't think this will work, Jordan," Garrett had said.

"I don't know of anything else to do...he doesn't want his parents or Cal to know right now...at least until if he knows if this is permanent or not. None of them are in a position they can leave Wisconsin and come to Boston. And I don't want Woody in Wisconsin."

"Why not? It's not such a bad idea."

"No."

"It wouldn't be but for a couple of weeks."

"And if he doesn't get his sight back, he may stay longer."

Garrett paused for moment, looking at his favorite ME. Woody's blindness had proffered as big a change in Jordan as it did in the detective. "That would really bother you, wouldn't it?"

Jordan nodded. "More than anything. I can take care of him, Garrett. I want to...I just need some time to get all my bases covered."

"Okay. As long as he doesn't get in the way and it doesn't interfere with your work..."

"Thanks. He won't."

"And Jordan," Garrett called out as she turned to go, "Be careful."

She have him quizzical look.

"I mean it. He could still get better and decide to go back to Devan, or not get better and decide to go home."

Jordan didn't reply. Those were two options she kept pushing from her mind.

She broke the news to Woody that night over dinner. "You know I have to go back to work tomorrow."

He nodded, still trying to maneuver his fork around his plate. Jordan had given him silverware two days earlier, moving him away from finger foods. It had been tough to learn how to eat off a plate without being able to see. She had had the patience of a saint. Never losing her cool...never arguing back at him when he lost his. He was grateful to her...but was beginning to feel like he owed her a debt he could never repay.

"How do you feel about going in with me?"

"To work? What would I do?"

"Well, to begin with there's several cold cases we could try to solve together. Play Dad's role playing game...Then when I'm busy doing pick ups or autopsy, you could hang out with Bug or Nigel or Garrett. If some of your detective friends aren't too busy, maybe you could even go to your office. Eddie's agreeable to it. What do you say?"

Jordan had been somewhat hesitant to approach him with this idea. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be...would he think he would no longer fit in, or would he be glad that at least part of his life had gotten back to normal? To her great relief, he agreed.

So Woody began to go in with her to the morgue. She would still always wake up before he did, pull herself away from him and get ready. Then lay out his clothes and get him up. He was becoming self-sufficient enough that he could take his own shower and dress. She would never know how much he appreciated her efforts...her patience...her compassion. He was well aware he could be a real bastard. He kept wavering between his old feelings for her, which had always bubbled right below the surface, or the overbearing need he was beginning to feel that he needed to get out...that he had inconvenienced her enough for too long. That she needed to get on with her life...without the handicap of a blind detective that had also broken her heart.

Other than the compassion, and well, _grace_, she showed him through his accident, Jordan had not touched him, although she had never made a move to pull out of his arms at night. She would let him hold her just as closely as he desired, but in the morning, she would always remove herself from his arms carefully, without trying to wake him. She never turned over and held him...like he had hoped she would do....but he couldn't expect that from her now...not after everything...not after Devan. He sighed. The knee-jerk reactions he had resulted in some bad decisions that he was still feeing aftershocks over. He didn't know when the earth under his psychological feet would quit moving.

Fortunately, working with the cases with Jordan at the morgue did give him the footing that he needed. While his sight had been taken, his other senses grew sharper...keener...more acute. Evidence that he may have initially passed over now took on more meaning...had greater potential. Within two weeks, he had solved three cold cases. Eddie and Garrett had been impressed. Jordan was thrilled. The work gave him purpose. The somewhat sullen, moody man she was taking care of, disappeared. In his place, more of the old Woody returned – the easy-going, focused, professional detective she had fell in love with, was back

By the end of the next week, Jordan felt so much better about the way things were going both at the morgue and at home, she asked him if he would like to go with her to the Pogue on Friday. Max was back running the bar again, but needed a night off. Jordan had agreed to play bar wench. "It would just mean sitting at the bar, drinking Guinness until I close. The beer is on me."

"Do I have a limit?"

"Not if you're a good boy."

He had grinned and agreed. It would be good to get his social life semi-normal again, too.

So Friday night, after going back home after work and changing, he and Jordan went to the Pogue. He took his usual barstool and she busied herself with work. He made small talk with friends and generally just hung out until he heard her ring the bell to close. The bar patrons gradually made their way out into the cold Boston night and he knew she was closing up .... Counting the money, setting the chairs on the tables, hanging the "closed" sign in the window. When it was finally all done, she went over to him to lead him out the door and take him home.

"No...not yet," he whispered. "Remember what we used to do on the nights you closed?"

Jordan did...they would dance. One of them would find the slowest song on the jukebox they could and they'd dance...sometimes for an hour. Just barely moving across the floor...holding each other. She swallowed hard. "Yes," she said softly.

"Do you think we could do it again? One more dance for old time's sake?"

He felt her nod. Digging his hands through his pockets, he produced two quarters. "Number 22, Jordan. Play number 22."

She left him there at the bar and inserted the money and punched in the numbers. By the time she got back over to Woody, the strains of Rod Stewart's _Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?_ were wafting through the air. Woody gently took her in his arms. "I think blind men can dance..." he joked.

Jordan never really ever remembered the dance. She simply closed her eyes and just enjoyed being held by him again...it seemed so much time had passed...too much time. Devan...his accident....the blindness all seemed to just melt away...fade into a nonexistent universe while they were there together. For her the song ended all too quickly.

And when it was over, he didn't release her. He lifted his hand and gently traced down her face...from her forehead, over the bridge of her nose...her cheek, down her neck to her shoulder...seeing her with his fingertips. He gently threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and his other tightened on her waist as his lips tentatively met hers.

And her world stood still. Time just stopped as he kissed her.. again, and again. Finally, pulling away, he just held her, until her heart stopped racing.

"Jordan?" he asked softly, "I need to tell you something."


	14. No Kewaunne Exit on this Highway

**Chapter Fourteen**

She had snuggled so close to him while dancing, he was reluctant to break the mood. It had started out like a normal slow dance with them, but by the time the last notes had faded, she was holding him as closely as he was holding her. But he and Eddie had a long talk today, and for the first time in weeks, Woody had bared his soul to another person.

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Woody?" She was still holding him, her head on his shoulder...She wanted to keep this moment...this mood...

"I'm moving back to my apartment."

Jordan drew a sharp breath. "No...you'll get hurt..."

"No, Jordan. You don't need me underfoot all the time. I'm in the way...cramping your style....You're planning your whole life and world around me and that's not good..."

"No, Woody. I don't mind. Honest. I don't mind taking care of you...I want to."

He felt his gut flinch at that. _She wants to...damn. That's going to make this so much harder._ "Look. I'll still be coming into work...into the morgue. You can keep an eye on me. But I talked with Eddie Winslow today. He lives in my apartment building. He's going to sort of help me out until my sight comes back. I need to do this, Jordan. I need it for me...and you."

"But what if you get hurt? What if you fall? What ..."

"There's a million 'what ifs'. But I'll never know until I try. And I need to try."

"I'll let you go back on one condition."

Woody chuckled. She still tried to bargain with him. "What?"

"I stay with you."

He blew out a deep breath. "No."

"No?"

"You heard me. No. You've done enough. You need to regain your life....your life before you began taking care of me. I'll still be around...you can still see me at the morgue to make sure I'm okay. And if I need you, I'll call you....but I need to do this."

The evening went downhill from there. They argued all the way back to her apartment. The thought of him being by himself...possibly hurt...bothered her immensely. Even though Woody was much more independent and probably could be fine by himself, she worried. That and she had gotten used to him being there...with her.

Holding her at night.

She knew he wouldn't do it again...maybe never again. Was this last dance "for old time's sake" his way of telling her good-bye? She could feel the cracks in her heart beginning to appear. Pushing back the tears, she finally told him, "Fine. If you want to do this, I understand. And I understand why. Just...if you need me, promise me you'll call me?"

He had nodded, and went off to bed. She stayed up for a while, trying to sift through her thoughts...trying to calm her mind. When she finally did crawl into bed, he made no move to hold her. She turned over to her stomach and let the tears fall silently, so as not to wake him. She had tried so hard to show him she really cared about him...loved him...sight or no sight...she had risked loving him again.

And been soundly refused. The cracks that were beginning to appear in her heart were quickly breaking what was left of it in two.

* * *

Woody woke when he felt her get up and head for the shower. Last night had been difficult. He had fought everything...every urge in himself to turn over, pull her to him, and tell her everything was going to be all right. He had heard her soft crying...and it had made today so much more harder. But he had to ease back into his own life. A life that could remain in darkness.

While being back at work, he had come to several realizations. First, if he had to, he could make a life for himself as a seeing impaired person. But he didn't want to burden anyone, least of all Jordan. He loved her too much for that. That's why when she had told him last night she _wanted_ to take care of him, he knew he had to put the brakes on everything.

He and Eddie had talked. He had voiced his concerns about his eyes and his relationship with Jordan to the other detective. Eddie had agreed with him and promised to help him out for the next two weeks, until his appointment with Dr. Little. Woody had also come to the conclusion if his eyes were no better, then he wouldn't remain in Boston. He'd go back home to Kewaunne and live his life there. Helping his parents on the farm...doing something. But not becoming a burden on his friends in Boston. He knew Jordan would fight him on this...but it was for her own good.

He knew by her response to the dance, her response to his kisses, that she was precipitously close to trying to regain their previous relationship. And it's not that he didn't want that. He did. He had castigated himself over Devan more times than he could count. But unless he was whole again...had his sight....he didn't want to try to encourage Jordan that things could go back to the way they were. He had to get her used to the fact that their lives could possibly go on without each other.

He sighed as he heard the shower turn off. It was going to be a long two weeks.

* * *

And it was....a long two weeks. He had to call her every morning to let her know he was okay. He had forgotten the first morning and woke to her angry knocking on the door. She had panicked. He had almost laughed at her. She didn't think it was very funny. But it touched him...her concern. He really didn't deserve it.

But now it was Thursday. His doctor's appointment. Jordan was driving him to it. Nervously, they sat in the waiting room. She was more antsy than he was...he could hear her fidgeting...finally his name was called and they went back to the exam room. Dr. Little had carefully examined his eyes.

"Woody can you see any light at all...any glimmers....anything?"

"No...not really."

Dr. Little sighed. "I'm sorry, Woody. We can give it more time. I can keep you on the drops. But I don't know if you're going to get any better. I wish I could offer more hope, but I can't....I'm truly sorry."

Woody had swallowed hard. In a way, he had expected the news. Even with his dark glasses, he had experienced no change...he never saw anything beyond the darkness. No sudden flickers of light, no glimmers. It seemed his destiny was set.

Jordan didn't say anything much on the way back to his apartment. She wordlessly had helped him out of her car and up to his apartment. "Can I come in?" she had asked him. "I'm going to the grocery store tomorrow and I'll check and see what you need..." He had let her...knowing that wasn't the real reason she was coming in...she wanted to talk about what the doctor said. He heard her go into the kitchen under that pretext. He picked up his cordless phone and began dialing a familiar number. He didn't hear her come out of the kitchen.

"Who...who are you calling?" she had asked, a panicky note in her voice.

"Kewaunne," he replied quietly. "I'm calling Mom and Dad." He turned around to face where he thought her voice was coming from. "I'm going to have to go home, Jo. I can't stay in Boston like this..."

To his surprise, he felt the phone being smacked out of his hands with force. He heard it hit the wall with a thud. "Jo?"

"No. And I mean no," she said, with as much force as she had hit the phone with.

"Look, Jordan, there's not any other..."

And he was pulled up short to her. She grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her level....eye to eye, whether he could see her or not. "No. No. No, no, no, no, no. Is that clear?"

"Jordan...look, honey.."

"Woody," she said, cutting him off. "We've known each other three years. And through three years, you've been there for me...for everything. Please, please, let me be there for you...please," and to his horror, her voice dropped and he could hear her tears. He had almost expected her negative reaction, but didn't fathom he'd hear her sobs.

"Jordan?" was all he could get out.

"Look...give me a couple of days, please? Let me see if I can find some kind of treatment...something. Please. I owe you a couple of more days. Then if I can find nothing...no treatment....then, I'll pack you up myself and drive the U-haul to your mother's. I promise."

He sighed. "Okay...I guess."

_He can guess all he wants,_ she thought._ But there's no way in hell he's getting out of my sight...there's no way he's leaving Boston._


	15. Hope in Hawaii

**Chapter 15**

Jordan pushed the swinging doors to the crypt open with force. "Nigel....Nigel...I need you."

"Oh, love, do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?"

"I'm not joking, Nigel..."

"Neither am I.." he replied, giving her a smirk.

Jordan sighed and pinned him with a look. "I need your help...please."

"Sure, love....anything," Nigel said, catching the urgency in her voice and eyes. "What is it?"

"Could you be my computer jockey one more time? Please..."

"What for?"

"I need to find out what kinds of eye treatments there are out there for Woody's condition...where the nerves have been fried by either chemicals or light...his eyes are not better..."

"What has the doctor said?"

Jordan choked back her tears. "There's nothing else they can do." She looked quickly away, so Nigel wouldn't see them...or her fear. He reached over and ran his hands down her arms.

"Don't worry, Jordan. I'll look...and if there's anything out there, I'll find it."

Four hours later, Nigel entered Jordan's office with a wide smile on his face. "Guess what?"

"You've found something."

"More than that...I've hit the mother lode. There's a Dr. Evers that specializes in patients with nerve damage in the eyes. I called him and talked to him. He phoned Dr. Little's office and had Woody's files faxed over to him. Dr. Evers is semi-retired now, but he's definitely interested in seeing Woody at the end of next week. Come to find out he has a soft spot in his heart for policemen...his son is one. But guess what the best thing is?"

"He'll do it for free?"

"Not exactly..."

"Then what?"

"He's located in Hawaii. You and Woody have reserve tickets at the airlines to leave on Wednesday."

"What?"

"Dr. Evers insisted. It's part of the package. He wants to see Woody ASAP before the scar tissue sets up too badly in his eyes."

"Thanks, Nigel." Jordan nervously chewed her lip...Now she had to get time off from Garrett...and talk Woody into it.

* * *

"I don't think it's going to do much good, Jordan," Woody complained as she helped him in his seat on the plane.

She had gone through this same conversation for at least hundred times since the weekend. She went over to his apartment after her conversation with Nigel and announced her findings. To her amazement, he hadn't been optimistic at all. It seemed like to her he had accepted his blindness and quit fighting for his sight. "You promised me," she had nearly accused him. "You promised me that if I found something, you'd try it. And if it didn't work, then you'd think about Kewaunne."

Through much persuasion, tears, and a few hundred miles of guilt trips, she had finally got him to agree to go with her to Hawaii to see Dr. Evers. Getting him on the plane had been the last hurdle. "Sit," she commanded, as she stored their carry-ons in the overhead compartment. It wasn't a direct flight. They had a stop over in Dallas, then one in LA, then straight on to Hawaii. Jordan juggled it all – Woody, carry-ons, everything. By the time they were seated on the LA-to-Hawaii flight, she was exhausted, and her patience tried. While Woody hadn't been uncooperative, he wasn't as enthusiastic as she thought he would be or should be. She felt like she was the only one looking forward to seeing Dr. Evers...hearing what he said. Finally, drained from the trip, she fell asleep as soon as the airplane had leveled and the seatbelt sign flickered off.

Woody felt her body shift away from his and from her soft and even breathing, realized that she was sleeping. He gently took her hand. He had mixed feelings about this trip. He was trying not to get his hopes up too high...the fall from those dizzing heights hurt. He remembered how devastated he felt when his bandages had come off and he still couldn't see. He had learned then...don't expect miracles. Now, he was afraid that Jordan was getting her hopes up too high. He was just beginning to accept the fact that he may end up being a blind dairy farmer from Kawaunee, Wisconsin. She hadn't. She wouldn't even consider it. She was having to have hope enough for the both of them. He couldn't see her, but he could imagine her while she slept...he had watched her sleep before. Her face would relax...softly, he reached over and pulled her to him, so her head was on his shoulder. He was trying to store up memories of her like this...so that when he went back to Wisconsin, he would have something to remember...she slept the rest of the trip resting on his shoulder.

* * *

They went to the hotel first, where Jordan checked in. Then they went straight to Dr. Evers's office. Nervously, Jordan paced the exam room while Woody calmly sat on the exam table and waited. "Don't get your hopes up," Woody said.

Jordan ignored him and kept pacing.

Finally Dr. Evers came in. He introduced himself and his staff to Woody and Jordan. "I've read your file, Detective Hoyt. Let me ask you a few questions...and take a cursory look. He did all of that and finally, turning the lights off in the exam room, he carefully looked at Woody's eyes, using a tiny, high-beamed light. Jordan heard him "hmmm...." And "oh," a few times. He flicked off the little light and flipped back on the overheads.

"This is what has happened, Woody," Dr. Evers said. "Your eyes were damaged....either through the light and heat caused by the explosion or by the chemicals in the lab or both. The scar tissue from the damage has built up around the nerves. That's what's keeping you from seeing. If I can get in and remove the scar tissue, you'll be good to go...seeing in a few weeks."

"Is that possible?" asked Jordan.

"Yeah...by using some laser surgery, it can be done. You'll have a bit of a recoup time...a week or two, then the bandages will come off. I think you have about an eighty percent chance of sight recovery. And you wouldn't need to stay out here the entire time...after the surgery, you can go back home and your attending physician, Dr. Little, can remove the bandages in about ten days. "

"When could you do it?" Jordan asked.

"The day after tomorrow....Woody?" Dr. Evers asked. Woody had been silent the entire time.

"What are the possible side effects, doc?" he finally asked, quietly.

"None really....other than the fact it wouldn't work and you'd remain blind. What have you got to lose?"

Woody swallowed...nothing really. "Okay. Schedule it."


	16. Realizations in a Red Bikini

**Chapter 16**

Jordan took Woody back to the hotel. For some reason, she had thought that she would be the only one in the room that night...that Woody would remain in the hospital. So she had gotten a room with one king-sized bed. She guided him to the room and lugged the bags through the door.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Yeah..."

"There's a fast food place on the corner. Feel like a burger?"

He nodded. She sounded tired. He was concerned about her – he was taking the surgery with a grain of salt...even with an eighty percent chance of his sight returning, he wasn't sure about what kind of quality sight he would have....or if the scar tissue would grow back again.

Jordan, on the other hand, had pinned all her hope on the tiny laser that would slice through the scar tissue and restore his sight. He honestly thought she would have the harder time dealing with the reality of his blindness if the surgery did not work. They went to eat without much discussion and soon found their way back at their room. Jordan had unpacked Woody's clothes and arranged them the same way they were at home. He had soon found his sleep pants, but left off his t-shirt. This was Hawaii...and it was hot. If Jordan hadn't been in the room, he'd of left off the pants, too, and slept in his boxers.

He heard her showering and changing. He had pulled the covers back on the bed and gotten in when she emerged from the bathroom. "Need anything before I go to bed?" she asked, glancing his way, then averting her eyes. She had nearly forgotten how he looked without a shirt...

"No. I'm fine."

"Okay, I'm going to bed....I'll be right in the next room if you need me. Just call."

Woody had been in the room long enough to know there was only one bed and he was in it. "Where are you sleeping, Jordan?"

"The living area."

"There's no bed there."

"The couch, Woody. I'll be on the couch."

"I can take the couch."

"No..." he heard her voice growing a tad more distant. She had moved away from him. "I will. You need to rest and be ready for your surgery."

"You're tired, Jordan...exhausted."

"Yeah... and the couch is comfortable, Woody. Now go to sleep." He heard her flipping of the lights. She made no move to get in the bed with him...she sounded like she didn't want him to offer.

Truth was, she didn't. It had taken her days to get used to sleeping without him at her apartment after he left...long nights getting used to not having his arms around her, her body spooned closely to his. She didn't want to have to adjust again. She preferred the couch.

The next morning, she went down to the lobby and grabbed bagels and coffee for breakfast. "What do you want to do now?" she asked Woody. "We've got one day in Hawaii where you can do whatever you want before your surgery. It's your day...what do you want to do? Visit the cheesy tourist attractions, hang out by the pool, walk on the beach....what?"

"Tourist attractions, what else?"

The rest of the morning they spent touring the city...Jordan describing everything to Woody. They stopped for ice cream...lunch...and afterwards found themselves back at the hotel room. It had seemed like old times...the laughter...joking...banter. Woody flopped back on the bed, needing to rest, but enjoying the hell out of the day. Again, he was putting back memories...in case he ended up in Kawaunee... in case he ended up without her. "Hey," he said softly.

"Yeah?" she asked, coming over to the bed and sitting beside him.

"Why don't you take some time for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Go swimming...play in the ocean...sunbathe. Do a few things you want to do without having to take care of a blind man. I'm going to take a nap...you don't need to sit around and wait for me to wake up."

Jordan chewed her bottom lip...she didn't like leaving him alone...but...she would like the chance to sunbathe, at least for a few hours. "I'll have my cell phone...if you need me, will you call? I'm just going to be by the pool.

"Yeah."

She went into the bathroom to change. Despite the fact that Woody was blind, she still had never changed in front of him...it just didn't feel right. She donned a red bikini. A tiny, red bikini. A teeny, tiny, red bikini. She had bought it last summer when she and Lily went down the coast of Massachusetts on a weekend getaway. She carefully rubbed herself down in sunscreen, remembering Garrett's warning not to get sunburned and "pick up a melanoma." Emerging from the bathroom, she wasn't watching where she was going and ran straight into Woody.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one with sight problems...." His voice trailed off as his hands went up to steady her and him and he realized what she was....or rather wasn't....wearing and felt the air in his lungs lock up. Slowly his hands went up from where they were....her hips...and slid to her waist, up her arms, across her back, pulling her to him. Gently, they trailed up the sides of her face, sweeping her hair over to one side.

Jordan swallowed hard. He was seeing her with his fingertips again. She felt her knees give just a little as his hands left her shoulders and trailed gently down her front...over the rise of her breasts, to the hollow of her belly button. She heard him sigh and felt both of his arms go around her and pull her closer. "Jordan..." He held her only for a moment, before carefully releasing her. "I think you need to go now..." he whispered.

She nodded and shut the door behind her. Leaving him there, in the middle of the room, feeling the loss all over again. Not just of his sight...but of her. Even if his sight was restored, that was no guarantee their relationship would be. He cursed Devan again. Not for the last time.

* * *

A few hours later, Jordan quietly let herself back in the room. She had tried to sunbathe and nap. The sunbathing part she got down pat. The napping was a different story. Woody's touch...however light...however gentle....made her ache. For him. For what they once had. She loved him...wanted him...but she wouldn't be a substitute for Devan. If he wanted back into her life, he would have to want her _for her_, not as a substitute for another woman. She loved him...but knew it wouldn't last unless it was this way...she was playing for keeps this time. And she had no guarantees from him that he felt the same way.

He was napping...but it was getting late. She needed to make sure he had dinner, as he could have nothing after midnight. She shook him away. "Woody..."

He mumbled and rolled over, burying his head in the pillows. "No..Woody..."

"Hmmmmm?"

"Dinner. It's getting late and you need to eat."

He sat up, and brushed his hands over his eyes like a sleepy little boy. "Okay..okay. Where to?"

"There's a taco stand by the boardwalk. Wanna grab a taco or two and take a walk on the beach? We haven't seen much of the ocean since we've been here."

"Sounds good."

Jordan grabbed the wrap that went with her bikini and tied it around her waist like a skirt. She saw no need to change if they were going to walk on the beach. Three tacos and a couple of beers each later, they were strolling on the beach, her arm tucked in Woody's to guide him along. He finally got up enough courage to ask her the questions that had been burning in the back of his mind for weeks.

"Why, Jo?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this...for me?"

She chuckled. "I owe you...don't you remember?"

"You don't owe me this much..."

She sighed. She had a feeling once he regained his sight, things would revert back to the way they were before the accident. She hoped Dr. Beechler kept his promise...she may need some time in North Carolina to regroup. "Yeah....yes, I do. You've always been there for me, Woody. Always."

"Is that all this is? A debt repayment?" He stopped her, putting his hands around her waist...feeling her bare skin...realizing her bikini was still there. _Oh damn_, he thought. _She's not making this easy._

"No, Woody, it's not," she said in a sudden moment of honesty.

"Then what is it?"

She looked into his blue eyes...eyes that couldn't see 't fathom what she was feeling or thinking. "We'll talk about it later, Woody. When the surgery is over...when you can see." She tried to pull away from him and walk back to the hotel. He stopped her, holding her waist still.

"Are you running, Jordan?"

"Running?"

"From your feelings?"

No, she wasn't. She wasn't running from her feelings. She knew what they were. The question was, did he know what his were? And would he admit them if he did?


	17. No Answers to my Question

**Chapter Seventeen**

The next morning, Jordan took Woody to the hospital. She admitted him and then went to the waiting room...hoping by some fat chance they at least had interesting magazines there to occupy her for the three to four hours Woody would be operated on. A movement in the doorway caught her attention. It was Dr. Evers.

"Dr. Cavanaugh?"

"Is something wrong...Woody?"

He grinned. "No, Woody's fine. I thought you might want to be in the room with him while I operated. You are a doctor..."

Jordan sighed. She would like nothing better.

After washing up and putting on the scrubs the nurses offered, she found herself in the operating room...she went over to Woody, and like she had so many other times since his accident, gently took his hand. "Jordan?" he asked, slightly groggy from the relaxant they had given him.

"Yeah...how'd you know it was me?"

"You're perfume...sweetheart...your perfume."

"Ready?" Dr. Evers asked, moving the laser into position.

"As I'll ever be," replied Woody.

Three hours later, both eyes bandaged, it was over. Woody had felt little and with the pain medication given, he wouldn't feel anything for several days. He would spend two nights at the hospital in Hawaii and then he and Jordan would have a direct flight home...no stops or layovers anywhere. In ten days, Dr. Little would remove the bandages and he would know if his sight was back at any level or if his world would remain dark and he could become a dairy farmer in Kawaunee. Time would only tell.

* * *

"No, Woody," Jordan said, putting as much force as she could behind her words. "I don't feel good about this."

"Yes, Jordan. I've done this before."

"Not since you've had surgery!" she exclaimed, raising her voice.

"Shh...do you want everyone to hear us?" They were in her office at the morgue.

"Frankly, I don't give a damn," she nearly shouted. "You don't need to be staying by yourself after the surgery."

"I'll be fine. Eddie's taking me over now. I'll talk to you later." He got up from the couch in her office. They had come directly to the morgue after arriving back in Boston. Jordan needed to check her messages and get caught up on a few things. Woody had told her he needed to make some phone calls. She didn't know they were to Eddie. She had anticipated either camping out at his apartment on his couch or at her apartment on her couch until his bandages came off.

But that was not to be. Despite the fact a big part of her was relishing in the idea of having him close by again...taking care of him...Woody wasn't going to allow it. "Hey," she said, stopping him before he could find his way out her doorway to wait for Eddie by the elevators.

"Yeah?" He didn't turn around. He kept his back to her.

"Could I at least come by at night and check your bandages? Your eyes will need to be dressed. You heard Dr. Evers. Eddie can't do it. At least as well as I can."

Keeping his back to her, he nodded and made his way to the elevators, one hand trailing the wall to guide him.

Jordan watched him leave. He didn't need her much anymore. Not really. _I guess I've served my purpose... and he's moving on_, she thought. She didn't know Garrett was behind her until she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"You okay? I couldn't help but over hear...I'm sorry."

Jordan felt the tears rise in her eyes. "Yeah...I just thought..."

"That things would go back to the way they used to be? That you could continue to be his nurse? I don't think so Jordan. He's a man....a man that can only take small doses of being taken care of like that. He's the type of man that feels his job is taking care of you....protecting you. It's not setting well with him that he can't. Plus the fact that Devan muddied the relationship waters for you two...."

"I know..." Garrett could hear the break in her voice. He gently pulled her to him.

"You need to let him go, Jo."

"I did...he's going back to his apartment."

"No....I mean emotionally...let him go. Even if he gets his sight back...despite what you told me earlier about following your heart, you need to let him go. Woody's wrestling with a lot of issues right now. I know the signs. His blindness is a part of it....it affects his future....but that's not all of it. You need to move out of the way and let him work through this...make up his mind. Let him go, Jordan."

"Is that an order?"

"Not exactly...just some advice from someone that's been there."

"But I'm scared, Garrett."

"Of what?"

"That he may get hurt...or that he may hurt me."

Garrett hugged her. "There's always that chance. Either way, you need to get out of his way."

She nodded. But it would be one of the hardest things she would ever do.

* * *

The next night, after she got off work, she found herself at Woody's apartment, knocking on the door. She came to dress his eyes and check on him. Then she was going home and get some much needed rest. Taking Garrett's advice, she was going to be friendly, but not anything else.

"Hi," she said as Woody opened the door.

"Jordan?"

"Yeah...came by to check your eyes...you know. Doctor those baby blues."

He pushed the door open wider. "Come on in."

"So," she said as she came into the living room, "how's it going, Wood? You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Where do you want me?"

"Couch is good." Jordan took a cursory look around the room. A few beer bottles. Pizza. He had been home a while.

Woody made his way to the couch and sat down on the arm of it, making him at a higher level for Jordan to deal with....much easier on her.

Jordan sat her bag down on the table and flipped the light off by the couch. "Okay, cowboy...let's see what we've got." She cut the bandage wrapped around his head and removed the gauze bandage. Then she took off the pads over each eye. She washed the area with saline and dropped the medication in each eye and rubbed the ointment on. Then she put fresh bandages back, careful all the time to keep her touch light and professional, her demeanor only friendly. "How's that?"

"Thanks. Better."

She made to pull away from him when he caught her wrists. It always amazed Jordan how he always knew exactly where she was at in relationship to his body, even though he was blind. She chalked it up to his other senses becoming more acute. She wondered if they would stay this sharp after he got his eye sight back.

"What?" she asked.

He pulled himself up, so that he was standing over her. "I need to know something, Jo."

"Okay...."

"It's been bothering me since we were in Hawaii. Will you be honest with me?"

She nodded, wondering what it could be.

"The bikini, Jo. Why'd you wear it?"

"The bikini?" She wasn't following where he was going with this.

"Yeah...the red bikini...the barely there bikini?"

"It was my bathing suit...I bought it last summer when Lily and I went on vacation..."

"Why did you wear it in front of me?"

She had never thought about it. It was her bathing suit...the nicest one she had...she never thought about how he would react to it....not being able to see. He could feel the heat from her face. He knew she was blushing.

"So why Jordan?" he asked again. "Are you a tease? Never figured you for one. But you were....you knew I wouldn't touch you again as long as I was blind....and then you come out in that bathing suit. What were you thinking? How did you think it made me feel?"

Jordan felt confused, but only for half a minute. Then she grew angry....after all she had done...taken care of him...arranged the treatment....and he was raking her ass over the coals for a _bathing suit_? She pulled away from his grasp.

"I know you're angry, Woody...about your eyes...about the accident...and probably about Devan running out on you like that, but I'm sorry. I'm the one here. I'm the one who took care of you...not out of pity, but because I cared...I wanted you to be safe...taken care of....and I wanted to be the one to do it, because you've done so much for me.

"I didn't wear that bathing suit for any other reason other than the fact _it's the only one I have and I didn't have time to go shopping before we left to go to Hawaii_. You've been so short with me...such a bastard at times...I didn't think it would have any affect on you because _I didn't have blonde hair and blue eyes and answer to the name of Dr. McGuire_.

"I'm leaving. I'll check your eyes from now on when you come in with Eddie for work in the mornings. And until then, you can go to hell, Woody."

She turned quickly to leave, before she dissolved into tears...before he heard her cry, when she heard him trip behind her and fall. He had reached out to stop her exit and lost his footing. Immediately she was at his side, helping him up. Brushing the hair off his forehead, she asked, "You okay?"

He wasn't. There was a long gash on his arm. "Come here," she said, grabbing her bag again and leading him to the bathroom. There she carefully washed and cleaned his cut, and bandaging it up...taking care of it the same way she did his eyes. She couldn't do this anymore. She didn't think she could put herself through this emotional wringer another day. "Woody," she said softly, when she had completed her task. "This time, I need to know something."

"Sure..."

She took his hand and put it on her face ... where he could feel her tears...know the depth of her emotion. "What are you going to do after the bandages come off? What are you going to do when you get your sight back?"

He hesitated only half a heartbeat. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss, sending her world into a spin, not letting her for air, not letting her go, not letting her out of his arms...not until he thought that she knew exactly where he was heading.

The only problem was, she didn't. He had only confused her more. He still hadn't answered her questions. "No, Woody...that's not what I meant. Are you going back to Devan?"


	18. Play Ball!

**Chapter Eighteen**

Woody never answered Jordan's question. About the time he opened his mouth, Eddie Winslow breezed through the door, interrupting their conversation. Jordan gamely said good-night and went back to her lonely apartment. She kept hoping Woody would call. He didn't. _I guess I have my answer_, she thought.

So, as she always did when she was trying to sort out her personal life, she went back to work with a vengeance. She was trying to let go of him...trying to forget how much she loved him and wanted him. And the more she worked, the less she had time to think. And the less she had time to think, the less she hurt. Work became her ally, her friend, her support system, her therapist.

She still saw Woody daily. She would go over to his office when she knew Eddie or Annie was there and change his bandages. Always when someone was there. She didn't want to talk with Woody on a personal level. Until one day he called her. "Guess what tomorrow is?" he asked.

She knew. "You get your bandages off."

"Yeah, I do. I was wondering if you would like to take me....I mean, I know Eddie or Annie would if I asked, but you've sort of seen this thing through. Thought maybe you'd like to walk this last step with me."

Jordan paused for a minute. "Yeah. What time do I need to pick you up?"

* * *

At ten o'clock the next morning, Jordan and Woody both were nervously pacing the exam room. Finally, Dr. Little came in. "How's it going, Woody?"

"Can we please just get this over?" he asked. In a few minutes, he would know if he was a full-fledged detective again or a blind dairy farmer.

"Sure. Have a seat. Jordan, could you turn off all the lights except the one in the corner. Dim that one." Jordan flipped the light switch and rotated the dimmer. Then she went to stand behind Dr. Little. The doctor removed the bandage that wound around Woody's head. "Okay, Woody. I want you to shield your eyes with one hand. Then slowly open your eyes. Things maybe a little fuzzy at first..it may take you a minute or two to focus. Just let it happen." Woody put his hand over his eyes and Dr. Little slowly removed the eye pads. Jordan watched, chewing her bottom lip.

Slowly, Woody opened his eyes and blinked. Then he blinked again. His world came into focus and all he could see was a pair of whisky-colored eyes, anxiously watching him. "I can see," he said softly. And then louder, "I can see." Jordan saw his face break out into a smile – a full Woody smile, dimples and all.

Dr. Little left the room to finish the paperwork and leave them alone. Jordan walked over to Woody and gently hugged him. "I am so happy for you," she said. "You just don't know...."

"It's all because of you," he whispered in her ear. "Thank you, Jordan."

* * *

Jordan didn't know what she expected after Woody regained his sight. He had made it clear to her that he wasn't interested in her other than a substitute for Devan – a role she had no desire to play and wouldn't. So she continued to work, spending nights back at the morgue again, like she had before Woody went blind. She toyed with the idea of calling Dr. Beechler back, but North Carolina no longer had the appeal it once did. She rarely saw Woody anymore. After Dr. Little's appointment, he had gone back to his apartment and she had gone back to hers. He had a lot to catch up on.

And it went this way for several weeks, until Jordan was on call and caught one of his. A homicide. He was at the scene, giving orders, acting like the old Woody. She performed the basic field exam, gave him an ETOD, and helped load the body into the van. "I'll meet you in autopsy," he told her, as she was getting ready to drive off.

She got the body back and moved it into Autopsy Two. She was so immersed in her work, she didn't hear him quietly come in behind her. He stood there a full five minutes, just silently watching....her. It was like he saw her for the first time...the same sensation came over him that did three years ago when she answered his call at the bank robbery....the time they first met. Except it wasn't. Back then, he didn't know her....what kind of person she was....It took everything he had not to reach out and touch her.

"Hey," he said finally.

She turned and removed her face shield. "Oh, hi...didn't expect you here this soon. Let me show you what I've got...." And she proceeded to tell him everything and give him her report. Except he couldn't hear her. He was too busy drowning in her eyes. "Wood?" she finally asked. "You okay?"

"Um. Yeah. Sure. Anything else?"

"No...not now. I'll have my full report to you tomorrow. Is that okay? Is that soon enough?"

"Sure, Jordan."

"Oh...and Woody...how are your eyes?"

He smiled. "Fine...still wonderful."

She smiled back at him and nodded.

He had to get out of there, fast. She made him feel like a heel. Despite the fact that on more than several occasions he had been a real bastard to her, she had only lost her patience with him once -- that night at his apartment. She had always been ....always concerned about him and his eyes.

He mentally kicked himself. Repeatedly. He had royally screwed up....with Devan....the way he acted with her.....He knew the reason he was so short with her...impatient. He wanted her. Back the way it was. When he knew her body, soul, and spirit. He wondered if he had damaged things so badly that would never happen again.

He also knew that if he was to win the girl back, the ball was squarely in his court. Jordan would not force herself on him....not cling....not cry after him. Her tears in his apartment the other night was as close as he would ever get to that.


	19. Seduction in a Black Dress

**Chapter Nineteen**

Jordan slowly turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. "What do you think?" she asked Nigel, who had accompanied her on this shopping trip.

"Personally? I love you in red, darling, but in black.....my dear, you look ravishing."

"Do you really think so?" Jordan eyed herself critically. It was a simple, classically cut dress, but it suited her. Narrow straps, V-neckline. It fell to the floor. And while there was nothing particularly scandalous about the front of the dress....the back was a different story. It was backless until slightly below the waist, exposing her shoulders. And while the slit up the side, even though it stopped just slightly above the knee, showed nothing, it was the _illusion_ that the dress did that made it just slightly risqué. Perfect for the department's annual dinner dance.

Perfect for seducing Woody.

And while she would never admit to doing it, Nigel knew exactly where Jordan was coming from. It was her last all-out effort to see if she still had his attention. "It's perfect, love. Buy it and let's go pick out shoes. And if Woody doesn't like it, I'm hoisting you over my shoulder and taking me home with me....I appreciate the fact that it accentuates parts of you we don't normally see." He grinned at her wickedly.

"Nigel!" She scolded. "Who said anything about Woody?"

"Who else is there? And why did you bring me with you other than to get another man's opinion? So you have it. Now let's go to the shoe department." By then end of the afternoon, she had shoes, underwear, jewelry...everything she needed to make a statement. Just what was she trying to say?

She and Woody had worked together...eaten dinner together...been to movies together...since he had gotten his sight back. At the most, his arm had gone around her waist...that was all. Jordan was tired of waiting on him...perhaps as tired of waiting on him as he had been of waiting on her during their relationship. So she was making one last ditch effort...to psychologically smack him in the head. If this didn't work, she was calling Mike Beechler back at Chapel Hill and making arrangements to go to North Carolina. She had two nights to wait until the dinner....

* * *

"Hello, Woodrow," Nigel said casually.

"Hi, Nige. Have you seen Jordan?"

"No, not yet."

"She is coming, isn't she?"

"I believe so. But she may be a tad late....late autopsy this afternoon." Woody and Nigel were at the dinner dance, waiting for the music to start..."Oh, there she is," Nigel said, casually pointing to the entrance of the ball room.

Woody lost his breath. She looked gorgeous....that black dress....she had turned around to speak to Garrett...the dress had no back. His lungs hurt...he couldn't breathe...All he could think of was that he wanted to howl and then see how quickly he could take down her hair and get her out of that dress.

Jordan made her way over to Nigel and Woody. "Thanks," she said to Nigel, as he handed her a glass of champagne. "How's this thing going?"

"Pretty slow right now," Nigel said, glancing slyly over at Woody, who had said nothing, but the detective's eyes were traveling....all over Jordan.

Woody made sure he was sitting beside Jordan during dinner....and then when that part was over, and the music started, he leaned over and whispered, "Will you dance with me?" She smiled and nodded. They danced one dance....then Garrett claimed her....then Eddie Winslow. Woody got one more dance in, and then Nigel wanted one....then Bug. Then other detectives....Woody grew more frustrated by the minute.

"How's it going, Woodrow?" Nigel asked as he saw Woody moping at the bar.

"Not good, Nige."

"What's wrong?"

"Everyone has got the girl, but me."

"You mean Jordan?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't know she was your girl."

Woody sighed. "I want her to be....again."

"You know you really screwed up."

"Yeah. I know."

"You know she's still crazy about you."

"She is?"

"Oh, yeah. Why do you think she wore that dress?"

Suddenly a light came on in Woody's head. "Oh...."

"If I were you, Woody, I'd go dance with the lady, and make sure I had the rest of the dances with her tonight. And I'd let her know how I feel...put the moves on her, if you get my drift..."

Woody nodded. Determinedly, he went across the dance floor and took Jordan away from Detective Steely. "I believe this is my dance."

Jordan looked at him unbelievingly. "Woody, I promised Steely..."

"I don't care what you promised....this one is mine. And so is the next, and the next, and the next."

"But Woody....:

"Nope. Don't 'but Woody' me. Tonight, you're mine." His arms went around her and he held her closely while they danced.

Jordan had dreamed this would happen. She had hoped it would happen. His arms felt so secure...she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be held by him. She closed her eyes and just let the music take them...across the floor...She felt Woody's hand slide across her bare back and rest just slightly on her hip. The lights were low...she snuggled closer. "I've missed you, Jordan," he whispered in her ear. "I've missed everything about you. Your smile, the way you'd cuddle up to me in bed...when you thought I was asleep. You're perfume...the way you always made me feel better, even when I never thought I'd see again." He drew back to look in her whiskey-colored eyes. "I've missed you...so much."

"I've missed you, too, Woody." His lips were just a breath away. They brushed across hers tentatively. She didn't pull back.

"What do you say we leave ... maybe go back to my apartment...or yours...and talk. I mean it. Just talk. We've got a lot of sorting out to do," he suggested.

She nodded. "Let me get my coat."

Woody watched as she walked away...damn, the rear view of that dress....it ought to be illegal. He was thinking such thoughts to himself when he heard a voice in his ear....

"Hey, stranger. You know, Paris can get boring after a while..."


	20. Packing up Your Hopes and Dreams

**Chapter Twenty**

"Devan....what are you doing here?" Woody asked, knowing it sounded cliché and trite.

"Like I said, Paris can get pretty boring," she teased.

"Oh....so you're back for good?"

"Maybe.....I talk with Macy tomorrow morning. I heard they're still short one ME and at least if they hire me back, they won't have to train anyone. I know the procedures."

"Oh. That's nice," Woody said absent-mindedly, still looking around for Jordan to reappear. The last thing he wanted Jordan to see was him with Devan...no matter how innocent.

"Woody, you okay? I thought that maybe we could have a few dances and then go somewhere else for drinks?"

"Um. No. I'm with someone." He moved away from the bar and began to walk to the entrance of the ballroom.

"Oh. Well. Later, hmm?" Devan was following him closely. She caught up with him at the door, put her hand on his arm and turned him towards her. "I've missed you Woody....I'm hoping we can pick up where we left off." Her blue eyes were warm and laughing.

"Devan....there's been more happened than you could ever dream of since you've been gone. I haven't heard a word from you since you left. Things change. I've changed. And no, we can't pick up where we left off."

"Woody? What happened?"

"Let's just say the blind have finally seen the light."

He turned to push past her, but she wasn't letting go...her hand still on his arm, when Woody caught sight of Jordan, quietly standing by the door. He wasn't sure how much she had seen, but he would wager she'd been there quite a while by the look on her face. Without a word, she turned and walked out the entrance – alone.

* * *

Jordan hadn't been the only one who had witnessed the event. Nigel, Garrett, and Lily had watched from the sidelines. "I'm going to stop her," Garrett said, indicating Devan. He managed to waylay her at the entrance with the excuse they needed to talk about her job. "It won't take but a minute," he lied.

"But..." Devan said.

"You want your job back don't you?" he said, smiling at her. They walked off to talk at the bar.

Meanwhile, Nigel and Lily had made left and tried to find Jordan...Nigel finally located her El Camino in the parking lot, with a shell-shocked Jordan sitting inside. "Love?" he questioned softly.

"I'm fine Nigel," she said in a flat voice. "At least I have my answers now." She put her key in the ignition. "I just wonder how long she's been back," meaning Devan.

"I haven't seen her," said Lily. "If I had, you'd been the first to know."

"He may have known. They may have been talking for weeks. I don't know. He doesn't say that much to me anymore. And to think I believed him tonight...that he missed me. Missed regular sex with Devan, maybe. But not me. I was the substitute." Her voice lowered and she leaned her head on the steering wheel.

"Jordan, I don't think Woody knew she was back...I really don't," said Nigel. "I'll be the last person to defend the boy, but I don't think he knew."

Jordan nodded numbly. She started her car. She wanted to get out of there before Woody found her. She had no desire to talk tonight...or even tomorrow. She'd go back to work on Monday. She'd call Mike Beechler. Chapel Hill wouldn't be so bad for a couple of years.

"Jordan – here's the key to my apartment. Let yourself in. Take a shower. I have some extra sleep pants and a shirt in my dresser. Stay with me tonight – you don't need to be alone and Woody doesn't know where I live.," offered Lily, her blue eyes concerned

Jordan took the key and nodded. "Thanks, Lil."

* * *

He couldn't find her. He looked everywhere and no Jordan. Her car was gone. She wasn't at her apartment. She wasn't at the Pogue. No one at the morgue had seen her since earlier in the day. And although it was unlikely she'd crawl over to Max's to lick her wounds, he drove by the house anyway to check. She wasn't there, either. _Damn, where could she be?_ He asked himself for the millionth time that night. _Damn Devan...clingy, pushy bitch...why did I ever....._ he ran his fingers through his hair.

He kept dialing her cell phone. Time after time. She wouldn't answer. Not that he expected her to. He left voice mail after voice mail. And when her cell phone mailbox was full, he did the same thing to her home phone. He had to find her.....he had to let her know how he felt. Finally, after hours of searching....talking to Nigel and Garrett, who both feigned innocence of her whereabouts, he reluctantly drove back to his apartment to spend a sleepless light pacing the floor and worrying. About her....about them....about what was going to happen.

* * *

The hot water of the shower felt good...washing away all of her thoughts....numbing her for a little while..._if only my memories could be washed away as easily,_ she grimaced. She had spent a sleepless night on the couch at Lily's...tossing and turning. At the first light, she had left her friend's apartment and went back to her own. She needed some time alone. She had a lot of work to do. Lily was coming over later with some boxes to help her begin to pack up her things. Jordan dreaded it....not the task of packing, so much. She really didn't own lot. It was fact that she was packing up more than her material possessions before she took the position at Chapel Hill. She was packing up her hopes and dreams.

She had never been one to dream much about a husband when she as a little girl. Nor as a teenager. It was like that was some elusive goal out there she would never reach...never be good enough to obtain. She had been far to obsessed with her job and her mother's murder to even think about reaching out and trying to grab it, even when it was dangled in front of her eyes. By the time she had been ready to try a relationship with Woody, he had grown tired of sitting in her emotional waiting room and had started seeing Devan.

Devan. Blonde. Blue eyes. Petite. And she had looked drop dead gorgeous in that blue slip dress she had on last night. There was no way she could compete. Jordan sighed and reached for a towel. Another slight comfort this morning. A full length bath sheet still warm from the dryer. It wrapped around her twice and fell to her feet. She tucked the end of the towel in front and was combing out her wet hair when she heard a knock at the door.


	21. I Can See Clearly Now

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"Hold your horses," Jordan called out, making her way to the door, trying not to trip over her towel. "Gee, it didn't take you long to find," she opened the door with a fling...."boxes....." she said her voice trailing off. It wasn't Lily at her door.

It was Woody.

"Can I come in?" he quietly asked.

Jordan held the door open wider. "Sure. What do you need, Woody?"

"What do I need...I need to talk...to you. Now. About last night. About Devan. About us."

"Let me get dressed."

"No. I need to say this now." He looked like he hadn't slept all night. He was still in his tux from the night before, tie undone, hanging limply around his neck, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. His hair was sticking out in a thousand different directions.

"Why'd you run last night, Jo?"

"Leave?"

"Yeah. Why? I thought we were going to talk..."

"I saw you were preoccupied."

"With Devan? I didn't know she was going to be there. My hand to God, Jordan, I didn't. As far as I knew, she was still in Paris."

"But she's back now." Jordan sat down on the couch, trying to keep her towel up and closed. Woody hadn't seemed to notice.

"Yeah, she's back..."

"So, I guess that means you and she will pick back up where you left off...."

"No." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the coffee table in front of her.  
"I don't want Devan. I never really wanted Devan...."

"Don't say that Woody....I saw you with her last night. I saw the way she was looking at you."

"You may have seen the way she was looking at me, but not the way I was looking at her. And not the way I was looking for you."

Jordan looked up into his eyes....those blue eyes that still caused her to melt. Those blue eyes that held the truth..."You were looking for me?"

"All night. Everywhere. Where were you?"

"Lily's."

"Great. The one place I didn't think to look." Woody sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Jordan, I can't imagine being with anyone but you. At one time, I may have doubted that...but these past few months...your patience...your understanding...It amazed me....blew me away." He reached out and took her hands. "You never cease to surprise me. After everything...after I had been a real bastard to you....before I lost my sight....and afterwards when I was trying to adjust, you were there. I can't go anywhere else. Everything I am...everything I want....all leads back to you. Even if I would have remained blind...gone back to Kewaunne....I still would have ended up at your door. There's no where else I want to be...no where else I need to be...not when I'm in love with you, Jordan Marie Cavanaugh. That's what I wanted to tell you last night."

Jordan swallowed hard. The confession was nice...but there were other things she needed to know. "Then why have you pushed me away these past few weeks?"

"You had to know your mind, too....we had been through a lot. Things needed time to sort out....settle down."

She nodded. He was right. That needed to happen. Gently, she pulled her hands away from his and stood up, still managing her towel. Her hair had dried by itself, falling in loose waves over her shoulders. "Want some coffee?" she asked. She needed to get away from him for just a minute.

"No...I'm good. I just need to know.." he said, stopping her by reaching out for her hand again. "How do you feel, Jordan?"

"Woody....I...." He had both hands again, holding both of them in one of his. The other hand was gently running up her arm. She swallowed again. The last time she had hesitated, she nearly lost him. She wasn't going through this again. "I feel the same way," she admitted, feeling him tug her to him. "I love you. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have taken care of you like I did...fought to get your sight back....worried about you so much....I was trying to show you...somehow words at the time weren't enough."

"They aren't enough now, either," Wood whispered, tugging her still closer and pulling her into his arms for a kiss. And the minute their lips met, she was gone. All she could feel was him...his touch. She willingly opened her mouth for him and then ended up clinging to his shoulders when she felt his response. Time hung...the minutes dissolved into nothing as she felt his fingers tangle in her hair and the other arm hold her securely to him. It was a while before Woody reluctantly broke the kiss and allowed them both to come up for air. He leaned his forehead against hers.

"Oh...Jesus, Jordan," he said, struggling to regain his normal breathing. And it was a lost cause....the towel that Jordan had been so carefully making sure stayed anchored securely in front, was slipping. She was aware of it and made to fasten it again, when his hands covered hers and tightened it back around her. As much as he wanted her...maybe they should go slowly....

"Woody?" she said softly. "Maybe I should get dressed now?"

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea..." Carefully, she moved out of his arms and went back to her bedroom, donning jeans and a shirt before remerging to see him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. "Better?" she asked.

"I liked the towel...."

She laughed. "You did, hmmm? Maybe later. And I think I have one that would fit you...if you feel like it, Farm Boy."

He grinned back at her. "Later? After we've both gotten some sleep?" He tugged her back over to him, pulling her into his lap.

"Sleep...that sounds..."

"Like a wonderful idea."

She nodded. "If you think you could rest in my bed again, you don't need to go home and take a nap."

He needed no second invitation. He was out of his coat in a heartbeat. A few minutes later, they were curled up under the covers in Jordan's bed...but this time, instead of her back being to his chest, it was her head resting on his chest as he held her. "I've missed this," she confessed, hours later, when they had woken up. The sun was now setting, and the room was bathed in cozy shades of pinks and oranges.

"Me, too, sweetheart...he lifted her chin so they were looking in each other's eyes. "Hungry?" he asked.

"No...not really."

He smiled. "Remember our agreement, Jo?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"Which one is that? The one where I don't call you at work with non-emergencies, the one where I never order anchovies on your pizza, or the one where I never pickup your car keys again and mistake them for my own?"

He chuckled. "No. None of those. The really important one...."

She gave him a puzzled look... "Which one?"

"The one where we both agreed that once you put your past behind you...we'd make love...and take all day to do it?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

He gently brushed the hair back from her face. "I'd like to do that now, Jordan....but only if you want it, too. I love you."

She leaned forward and gently brushed his lips with hers. "I love you, too...and I can't think of anything I'd like better..." She got no further. Woody rolled her over beneath him and kissed her breathless.

He kept his word...he took all day...and into the evening....spinning out their time...softly whispering to her, and in the end she was spent.. lying exhausted on top of him.

"Woody, sweetheart....did anyone ever tell you that you have way too much energy?"

He chuckled. "Tired?"

She looked up at him. "What do you think?"

"Let's see...what do I think....I think Jordan Marie Cavanaugh is still the hottest ME I've every seen. I think she's one of the most loving and compassionate women I've ever known. I think she has an incredible body and the sweetest little birthmark on her...." Jordan's look cut him short. He chuckled again, "And I think I love her very much and want to be with her as long as she will have me."

"Are you sure?"

He stopped laughing and held her tighter. "Oh, I'm sure...I may have been blind and stupid once, but I see things very clearly now... like the light of a new day...a new beginning....with you?" he asked softly.

She nodded and kissed him again. A new beginning with both of them seeing themselves, the truth, and their love just a little more clearly.


End file.
